


Comparable Afflictions

by startaroux



Category: One Piece
Genre: Aromantic Monkey D. Luffy, Dreams, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Zosan, Explicit Language, Fluff, Injury, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nakamaship, One-Sided Zoro/Luffy, Sanji Is Not A Vinsmoke, Zoro can (and should) be read as demisexual, love sucks sometimes, slaps top of fic "this bad boy can fit so many fuckin tropes", the strawhats love and support each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2020-09-23 02:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20332927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startaroux/pseuds/startaroux
Summary: Sanji chews on the inside of his cheek a bit, considering what his captain is asking of him.“I don’t know, man. Even at our best, we don’t get along. Are you sure I’m the only one that can help him through this?”Luffy nods like he’s carrying ten thousand years worth of wisdom around in his brain.“Yup. We both know it can't be me, and you're the only other person around here who knows what he's feeling, right?” Luffy reasons. “So you have to at least talk to him. Please, Sanji? Captain's orders."Well, when he puts it that way. And ordersareorders."Alright, fine. I'll see what I can do."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa, this is my first time ever writing a fic! Please be kind!
> 
> I don't really have a lot of this planned out, mostly just the beginning and end. How we'll get there, though? Remains to be seen. I might be a little slow updating this, but I do plan to see it all the way through, because there's nothing sadder than an unfinished story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 6/17/20: This chapter has been slightly rewritten.

Zoro looks down at his captain sleeping soundly in his lap, and his heart skips a beat. They’re currently sitting on Sunny’s lawn, leaned up against one of the tangerine trees, enjoying the mild weather that is all too rare in the New World. 

Partly cloudy with a breeze overhead, it had been the perfect day for a nap outside. Never one to miss a good napping opportunity, Zoro had decided to take full advantage. 

When he woke up, however, he’d found himself in the company of another napper who had settled himself down in Zoro’s lap and effectively claimed the swordsman as his own personal pillow. 

Not that Zoro minds.

He hugs Luffy a little more tightly from behind and listens to the soft sounds he makes as he sleeps. A strong wave of contentment washes over Zoro and he makes a decision he's been agonizing over for a very long time now. 

He's going to tell Luffy how he feels. Finally.

Why now? Why is this the moment he picks to lay everything out in the open? 

Zoro doesn’t know for sure. Nothing makes sense on the Grand Line, so maybe this doesn’t have to either.

Maybe he finally feels that he’s waited long enough.

To be honest, Zoro isn't quite sure when it all started. There would be moments here and there where he would look at Luffy and he just - couldn't look away. 

Like seeing him take on Arlong, beating the bastard into the cement with his fists and looking like the most badass motherfucker who had ever lived. 

Or even seeing Luffy stuff his face and make a fool of himself at wild, week-long parties would make something shift in Zoro’s chest. 

And it took a hell of a long time -- two years and that disastrous separation of the crew, to be exact -- for Zoro to understand that no, he wasn't just having chest pains, he was in...

Love? Possibly. Truth be told, Zoro wasn’t 100 percent sure what love really meant. 

But still, he'd never been in love before. Hell, he'd never even been in like. He has no idea how it’s actually supposed to feel. 

But what he does know is that he would do anything for Luffy. Anything to keep him safe, to keep him happy. He’s promised his loyalty to his captain and if that’s not love, he doesn’t know what is, as Zoro does not break his promises.

So this is where he is now. Sitting, holding Luffy in his arms and wondering how in the hell he's supposed to tell this amazing free-spirited person that he loves him. He thinks. 

He would never have even considered telling him if he didn't feel almost certain his confession would be accepted. He knows how to read between the lines.

Zoro was the first member of the crew. He’s been with Luffy the longest, and he likes to think he’s the one who knows Luffy the best. 

Nami joined up like a week later, but a whole week is a long time for it to be just two people. 

And when it was just the two of them, it was hard for Zoro to not catch feelings.

Besides, Zoro has seen the way Luffy looks at him with fondness and affection in his eyes. 

Of course, he kind of looks at everyone that way, but does that really matter? 

The two of them share a special bond, different from the bonds they share with everyone else. There’s no way in hell that this feeling is one-sided on Zoro’s part.

Luffy's asleep between Zoro's legs right now, for fuck's sake. He seeks out Zoro’s company way more than anyone else’s. Probably. 

That has to mean something, right?

Sure, Luffy sleeps on Usopp sometimes. Uses Chopper like a pillow pretty often. Tries to sleep on the damn cook every now and then, but usually gets a kick to the head for it. 

Zoro smiles at that thought. Luffy never hesitates to show love and affection for anyone, even under the threat of bodily harm. He’ll take the cue from his captain, then. 

Zoro won't hesitate anymore either. 

"Hey, Luffy?" He chokes out. The voice he hears almost doesn’t sound like him.

No answer. That's right, he's still asleep. Zoro clears his throat and shakes Luffy gently to wake him up. 

"Hey, Luffy can you wake up for a second?” he tries again, the adrenaline starting to kick up in his veins. “There's something I kind of want to talk to you about."

Kind of? Really? That’s an understatement.

"Hm?" Luffy is now staring up at him, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

And, dammit, there goes Zoro's heart again, using his lungs as a punching bag.

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

Luffy twists around to look at him. "Oh, hey Zoro. What's up?"

"Luffy, I feel like--"

No. No, no, no that's not right. Luffy doesn't deserve half-assed confessions. He deserves nothing less than the truth. 

Okay. Heart in hand, here he goes.

"I love you."

Luffy cocks his head in that cute way he does when he doesn't fully grasp the situation.

"Yeah, Zoro. I know. I love you too. We're friends," Luffy laughs. 

"I love you too. And Usopp, Nami, Brook, Robin, Chopper, Sanji and Franky,” he counts off, scratching his head, “and Jinbe too, of course, even though I never really know where he is..."

Zoro chuckles and shakes his head. Of course he would misunderstand at first. That's just so like him.

"No, Luffy. Not like that,” Zoro says. “I'm in love with you."

Well, shit. Now the captain's just staring. 

Zoro's in this deep enough as it is. Might as well go for broke. He continues.

"I love you like… I would protect you with my life; fight for you. I want to stand beside you when you realize your dream. And I want you to be there when I realize mine.” 

Zoro makes sure he’s looking Luffy right in the eyes for this next part. 

“You are everything I could ever want or need, and I promise to always be at your side for as long as you'll have me."

Luffy looks at him more intently now, and Zoro feels himself melting under that sharp gaze.

Finally, he responds.

“Zoro... Um. That sounds a lot like married people stuff," Luffy says with a nervous laugh.

Zoro feels his face get hot, but he doesn't look away. 

"I, um... Yeah, I guess?" 

He continues staring straight into Luffy's charming brown eyes, willing him to understand just how much he means every word he's saying.

"Oh." 

Luffy looks down and runs his hand through his hair then scratches the back of his head. 

"I think I understand what you mean, then."

Zoro lights up at that. "You do?"

"Yeah, but Zoro, listen." 

He maneuvers out of Zoro’s lap to sit in front of him on the grass. 

Wait, no.

"I don't want to get married. Or do any of that other stuff."

Luffy starts pulling blades of grass out of the ground as he talks and Zoro feels his chest rip open with each one.

“I’ve never loved anyone like  _ that _ before, and I don’t think I ever will. I don’t want to,” he continues. “My only dream is to become King of the Pirates.” 

Luffy looks up in a rush before adding, “And  _ of course _ I want you to be there with me, but I want everyone else there with me too. Everyone.” 

“You guys are my family, you know?” Luffy looks back down at the ground. “Like Ace was."

Oh.

"Oh." 

The same heart that had been dancing wildly in Zoro's chest now feels like it weighs more than a sea train. He feels it sink into his stomach. 

He feels hollow. Numb. He feels sick.

"Zoro? Whoa, hey Zoro, are you mad at me?"

Shit. _Shit,_ he needs to snap out of it. 

He needs to stop feeling like he's going to drop dead at any moment. He needs to comfort Luffy, assuage his worries and tell him that  _ no, of course _ he isn't mad. 

He could never be angry at Luffy, especially not for something he has no control over. 

God, this is so fucked up. 

"Luffy--  _ Captain. _ I'm not mad. I promise." 

The swordsman looks down at his empty lap that echoes the feeling in his chest. 

Well. Isn't that just disgustingly poetic.

"You're sad, though,” Luffy says. “Because I can't love you the way you want me to."

"It's okay, Luffy.” Zoro attempts a smile, but it comes out looking more like a weak grimace. Pathetic. “Really, it's not your fault. I’ll be alright. I promise."

And he always keeps his promises, doesn’t he?

Luffy studies Zoro's face for a moment and the swordsman feels like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

What could he do? What could he ever say to make this better? 

He should have just kept his damn mouth shut and carried on with this unrequited love in silence. 

Luffy’s eyes drift somewhere behind Zoro and suddenly he nods, seeming to decide something. 

"I'm gonna leave you alone now. But Zoro?” Luffy stands up and stretches his arms out before looking Zoro in the eye again. “Please don't be sad because of me. I hate to see my friends upset."

All he can manage is a nod.

Yeah. Some time alone will be good for him. 

He needs to clear his head. Meditate. Lift. Do something about these chest pains. Maybe drink until he blacks out. 

As Luffy begins to make his way towards the galley, tears begin to make their way down Zoro's cheeks. 

  
_ Fuck, _ this hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? :)
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux) too


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Sanji had wanted was a nice smoke break. That’s all. Just five minutes outside in the rare, beautiful weather they’d been having that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to flip-flop from Zoro's POV to Sanji's POV and back again with each new chapter, so now let's see what the cook is up to.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux)
> 
> EDIT 6/17/20: This chapter has been slightly rewritten.

Sanji is currently in the galley, freaking the fuck out. What the hell was that? _ What the fucking hell was that? _ What did he just witness? 

Something he certainly was supposed to have neither seen nor heard, that’s for sure. Something he desperately _ wishes _ he had neither seen or heard.

Sanji lights another cigarette -- his fourth in as many minutes -- to try and somehow calm his frazzled nerves. 

Okay. 

Okay. Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine. Yeah. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.

He did _ not _ just hear Zoro confess his undying love for their captain. 

He did _ not _ hear Luffy reject the swordsman -- kindly, but still a rejection nonetheless. 

And he definitely did _ not _ see the look of broken despair that crossed Zoro’s face after said rejection, a look that hit a little too close to home for the chef. 

No. He definitely didn’t see that.

But, see, the problem is-

The problem is that he did, in fact, bear witness to all of it. Not only that, but he’s pretty sure Luffy _ knows _ that he saw everything, and that’s why his captain is heading this way _ right goddamn now. _

Fuck. 

Shit. 

Fucking shit. 

All Sanji had wanted was a nice smoke break. That’s all. Just five minutes outside in the rare, beautiful weather they’d been having that day. 

Sanji sighs and knocks his head back against the wall before remembering to extract the hand he’s had gripped in his hair.

He’d really been having such a lovely day, too. And then he just had to go and fuck it all up by keeping his own stupid rule of never smoking in the galley. 

Lot of good that did. Now the galley smells like it’s been trashed and set on fire. 

He’s such an ass. Dammit, what would one cigarette have hurt? Just one?

But no, he had to be a stickler and walk outside right in the middle of the most awkward situation he’d ever witnessed in his entire miserable life. 

Thank _ fuck _ the damn marimo hadn’t been the one to see him. Maybe there’s a god out there after all. Small miracles, right?

Luffy must have decided that this is a good moment to interrupt Sanji's internal monologue because he bursts through the galley door honing in directly on the cook and coming to a halt right in front of him.

They stare each other down for a moment like a scene out of those old West Blues Zeff used to make him watch.

"Sanji."

"... Luffy."

"Meat."

Sanji glares at his captain like he's just announced he wants to quit pirating and become a navy chore boy.

Seriously? Meat? 

_ That’s _ what he’s here for at a time like this? 

Although, thinking on that statement for a second, Sanji recognizes that it’s pretty much par for the course when it comes to the glutton.

But still, he’s surprised that Luffy isn’t even trying to bring up what they both know just happened. Unless.

Unless he never actually saw Sanji outside in the first place, and the cook’s just been in here having a fucking stroke over nothing. He groans and rolls his eyes at the thought.

"I haven't even started on dinner yet, Luffy,” Sanji says, rubbing at his temple. “You’re going to have to come back later just like everyone else."

Awkward circumstances or not, rules are rules. Only the ladies get special treatment around here. Except-- 

There he goes with the damn rules again. Shit. When did he become so straight-laced? He's a pirate, isn't he? A rule-breaker by definition. 

Rules are for innocent civilians, not a monster first-class chef of the sea who has smashed more skulls than he can count with his feet alone. Hell, maybe he can give in just this once. 

But when Sanji looks back around to tell his captain that he changed his mind, he sees something that has the words dying in his throat immediately.

Luffy is closed off. He has his head down, hat shielding his eyes. One hand is clutching the elbow of the opposite arm. Teeth pulling at his bottom lip. He looks… uncomfortable? 

No. Sad. He looks sad.

Why is he sad, though? It's not like _ he’s _ the one with the broken heart. But, perhaps that's the exact root of the problem right there, isn’t it? 

He caused one of his best friends pain. It was unintentional, of course, but inevitable. That must hurt Luffy more than a broken heart ever could.

Everyone on the crew knows how Zoro feels about Luffy. The idiot is talented at a lot of things, but he never was exactly great at hiding that part of himself. 

But they all know Luffy just as well. 

This situation has been a ticking time bomb from the start. Perhaps Zoro was just too blinded by his infatuation to see it. 

And there's nothing anyone could have done about it except wait. Especially not Luffy. Anything he could've done would have probably only made the situation worse. 

"Sanji, please." Luffy's voice is so quiet. "I need it."

So here they are. The incident having finally occurred, Luffy is standing in Sanji’s kitchen in need of comfort.

Sanji lets out a stream of smoke before he turns toward the kitchen and speaks. 

"Alright, captain. I got you,” he says. “Sit down and it'll be ready in a minute."

Once Luffy sits down at the bar, he rests his chin on his hands, looking at Sanji like he's deep in thought. Probably scheming up some half-baked plan if he had to guess.

Sanji put his whole heart into the steak dish he makes for Luffy. He always does, but this one in particular is especially important. 

He plates everything and gingerly sets it down in front of his captain. It’s perfection, as always.

The dish is never savored as it was meant to be, though, because Luffy inhales it like a black hole before the plate even touches the table. 

Un-fucking-believable.

Sanji rolls his eyes and mumbles something about wasting his culinary talents on unappreciative bastard captains as he takes the plate back to the sink for washing. 

Honestly, as often as he rolls his eyes at the other man, he’s surprised they haven’t gotten stuck that way yet.

Then Luffy picks the moment Sanji turns back around to give him the brightest goddamn smile he's ever had the blessing to be on the receiving end of. 

And his heart just fucking melts. Damn stupid rubber idiot making him have protective damn familial feelings. Dammit.

"Thanks, Sanji. I feel a lot better now."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it.” Sanji shoves his hands in his pockets. “Now, are you gonna talk about what's going on with you or not?" 

Not that Sanji's really curious about what happened with Zoro or anything, he's just… concerned. 

Any discord amongst members of the crew could end up being catastrophic in the long run, and they need to do whatever they can to avoid that at all costs. 

Luffy just gives him a questioning look. 

"But you already know." 

Shit, so he really _ had _ seen him eavesdro-- accidentally overhearing. Guess pretending to be blissfully unaware is out of the question now.

Sanji lets out a sigh and looks up at the ceiling. 

"Yeah, no shit, but I'm still worried about you. Both of you, even. The two of you are usually inseparable, and if something like this were to drive a wedge--"

"No, Sanji.” Luffy shakes his head and takes a small step toward the cook. “I mean you _ know. _ And I want you to help make this better. Please. It can’t be anyone else but you."

The fuck? He _ knows? _ What the hell is he talking a-- oh. 

Oh that. Huh. Yeah, he definitely knows all about _ that. _

It’s already been two years since that happened though, so he’s had plenty of time to get over it. 

Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt anymore now that he has closure. Time can be a beautiful mistress in that sense, stealing your pain away.

Sanji chews on the inside of his cheek a bit, considering what his captain is asking of him. The green jerk doesn’t even like him, what makes Luffy think he’ll accept his help at all?

“I don’t know, man,” Sanji sighs. “Even at our best, we don’t get along. Are you _ sure _ I’m the only one that can help him through this?”

Luffy nods like he’s carrying ten thousand years worth of wisdom around in his brain. 

“Yup. We both know it can't be me, and you're the only other person around here who knows what he's feeling, right?” Luffy reasons. “So you have to at least talk to him. Please, Sanji? Captain's orders."

Well, when he puts it that way. And orders _ are _ orders.

Honestly, what the hell kind of person asks please and then turns right around and makes it an order, anyway? Whatever. It's not like he can make this any worse.

"Alright, fine. I'll see what I can do."

-*-*-*-

Zoro doesn’t show up at dinner that night, and Sanji doesn’t have to think too hard about why. 

When Franky is the first to question it though, the cook freezes up and doesn’t know how to respond.

“Hey, where’s Zoro? Li'l bro never misses a meal.”

“Last I saw, he was climbing up to the crow’s nest. I think that was around three this afternoon?” Nami, ever Sanji’s saving grace, lightly scratches along her eyebrow as she answers. “I never saw him come down, though. You don’t think he hurt himself up there, do you?”

“Wait, _ what?” _ If Chopper weren’t covered in fur, he’d be as pale as a ghost. “He could be injured! He could be all alone and injured! _ HE COULD BE DEAD! _ I have to go check on him right now!”

It’s at that point that Sanji snaps out of his stupor and takes control of the situation before things get out of hand and concerned crewmates start asking questions they don’t need or want the answers to.

“Hold on, _ hold on, _ Chopper. I’m sure that dumbass is fine. He probably just can’t remember which way is down,” Sanji says, hoping to placate the doctor. “If you want, I’ll go check on him. And if he’s dead, I’ll be sure to let everyone know, alright?”

Chopper is now doing breathing exercises to calm himself down.

“Okay, then,” he says between breaths. “But tell him if he’s dead, I’ll kill him.”

Sanji chuckles at that and feels his chest hum a bit with fondness for the little guy. He spares a glance at Luffy who has been noticeably quiet for the entire conversation. 

He’s still stuffing his face as enthusiastically as ever, but the cook can see a small crease between his eyebrows that denotes his concern. The crease goes away as Luffy nods at him, and he nods back in understanding.

Sanji goes to grab a plate piled high with food and a bottle of sake. Then, after a few seconds’ consideration, he grabs one more bottle before heading out.

Mossy bastard is probably going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcanon that Sanji curses more than all the other crewmembers combined, especially to himself and in his own head, so I tried to include that.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That jackass is probably the last person in the world Zoro wants to see right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Slightly rewritten as of 6/18/2020

Zoro is currently unable to move the majority of his body. 

After the-- After he-- Um.

He sighs. Coward. Why can’t he just say it? It's not like ignoring it will make it go away.

So, yeah. After  _ the incident, _ he had retreated to the crow’s nest to lick his wounds and allow himself to be pitiful and miserable in solitude. 

It’s been fine for the most part. If you can consider wallowing in utter despair to be fine.

Moping won’t do shit, he’d thought. He needed to actually  _ do _ something about this. 

So after a couple of hours of strict meditation in a sorry attempt at numbing his chest pains, Zoro had gotten fed up. 

That wasn't getting him anywhere at all. 

Naturally, then, he'd decided to do what he usually does when he’s feeling weakness within himself. He tried to literally work the pain and weakness out of his body.

For hours, he had worked. And worked. And worked until he could no longer feel anything at all, his body and mind numb from exhaustion. 

He had taken zero breaks, even when he began to start feeling dehydrated. Even when he felt his muscles tearing apart from overuse.

He kept going and going because even after everything he put his body through, none of it can compare to the pain that’s lodged deep between his ribs.

He feels like he's been run through with Mihawk's giant fucking sword all over again.

Why does it have to be like this? Is he just not good enough? Is that why?

What if he were stronger? If he were a better swordsman? A better pirate?

Would things have turned out differently? Would-- would Luffy love him then?

Zoro groans as a fresh wave of pain courses through him. 

So many questions are bouncing around his head, but they're all questions that can never be answered definitively. 

The swordsman usually doesn't waste his time on what-ifs. There's no point to them. What's done is done.

Luffy said he's never felt that way for Zoro -- for anyone -- and he never will. End of story.

But Zoro is so weak right now, physically and mentally. And when your mind is weak, toxic thoughts will come pouring in like river water after a levee breaks.

Maybe a nap will do him some good. An escape from consciousness, even for a little while would be pretty nice.

Then again, he is getting kind of hungry. What time is it again? If he misses dinner the cook will be pissed. 

But. Well, Zoro honestly can't bring himself to care about that at the moment. That moron is always pissed about something, anyway. 

Besides, Zoro doesn't think he can handle seeing Luffy right now. Not when everything is still so  _ fresh. _

Cowardly though it may be, he thinks hiding away in the crow's nest for a few days doesn't sound all that bad.

Zoro closes his eye. 

Yeah, he could stay here for a while. This wooden floor is pretty comfortable and warm.

He feels himself being slowly dragged under the veil of consciousness as he drifts off to sleep.

And then suddenly jolts awake as the floor hatch is slammed open to reveal one stupid, curly eyebrow. 

Dammit.

That jackass is probably the last person in the world Zoro wants to see right now.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Ugly.” Sanji’s voice echoes way too loudly around the room. “I brought your dinner that you're apparently too good to come down to the galley for like everyone else."

Zoro sighs and closes his eye again. He's really not in the mood for this. At all. 

He can't even find it in him to sit up and glare menacingly at the blonde like he would normally do. 

"Hey, here's an idea, cook: Why don't you go play with the fish at the bottom of the ocean and never come back?" Zoro says, putting as much bite as he possibly can into his words.

He still can't see the cook's face very well, but he hopes there's an annoyed expression on it. Maybe Sanji will get the idea that he just wants to be left alone.

But when Zoro only smells cigarette smoke after a moment instead of hearing a venomous retort, he finally looks around the room.

What the hell is this?

Sanji is sitting on the circular bench that wraps around the crow's nest with his legs crossed. He's just staring out the window… wistfully? Zoro’s never used that word to describe anything ever.

"Cook, I told you to leave. So, leave."

Instead, Sanji just blows more smoke into the small, shared space and glances at Zoro out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you hungry or not?" 

"Nah,” Zoro lied. “Your stupid eyebrows are ruining my appetite." 

Yeah, he could eat, but Zoro wasn't about to tell the cook that. Especially not since he knows it would just keep him up here longer. 

And especially not with him acting all quiet and weird like he is right now. 

Besides. Zoro can go a few hours without food. It's not like he's wasting away or anything. 

But it's really becoming a theme for the day that his body won't listen to him, because at that second his stomach takes the opportunity to let out the loudest noise it's ever made in his entire life.

And yeah. Of course it’s like a dog whistle to the cook. Sanji narrows his eyes at Zoro.

"Can't you just swallow your damn pride for five fucking minutes?” He grits out. "I'm trying to help you out here, dumbass."

Ah, fighting. Now that's familiar territory. 

But wait. What’s he mean he’s trying to help?

"What could I possibly need your help with, cook?” Zoro props himself up on his elbows so he can throw a proper glare Sanji’s way. “What makes you think I want you to be anywhere near me right now?" 

He spits the words out like they’re poisonous. 

Maybe a tad harsh, but Zoro couldn’t honestly give a shit about that right now. He just wants to be  _ left alone. _ Why is that such an unreasonable request?

Instead of receiving a comeback though, Zoro is surprised to see something that kind of looks like guilt and kind of looks like sadness pass across the cook's face. 

Sanji releases a harsh breath and looks up at the ceiling before he finally responds.

"Alright, fine. I wasn't going to tell you this.” Sanji grinds the cigarette butt out on the sole of his shoe. “But I should have fucking known you'd respond that way to any semblance of kindness from me, so-" 

He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. 

"I was outside this afternoon, okay? I saw and heard everything. And wait-wait-wait, dammit, before you try to murder me, just hear me out!"

Zoro doesn't know how, but upon hearing those words come out of the  _ cook's _ mouth of all people, he finally manages to rise up on a knee and send the most homicidal of intentions Sanji's way. 

That living piece of shit. 

_ He had been eavesdropping? _ On a private confession that was meant for only Luffy to hear? Hell fucking no.

For a moment, Zoro feels nothing but pure rage and humiliation. It has him trembling. He feels like crying, but he can't. 

He won’t. Not in front of--

Zoro's vision goes completely red right before it begins to tilt and he feels himself falling through a void into nothingness.

  
  


-*-*-*-

When Zoro opens his eye again, the stars are out. Instead of the floor, he is now lying on the window seat, head resting on a rolled-up towel. 

Did he pass out from exhaustion? But when did-- How did he get up--

"Alright, marimo, I'm only gonna say this once, so listen up."

Ah, that's right. Zoro had just been in the process of decapitating the cook. 

Zoro tries to stand up, but a gentle -- _ gentle? _ \-- hand on his shoulder pushes him to sit back down before sliding a bottle into his own hand.

When he looks up to bitch at the other man, a determined expression meets his indignant one and it shuts him up for a second. 

What is the cook playing at? Why is he doing this all of a sudden?

As though he had read Zoro's mind, Sanji looks him right in the eye before speaking slowly.

"Just let me help you,” he says, voice resolute. “Dammit, this is not something you want to go through alone. Trust me, I know."

Zoro scoffs at that statement and yanks the cork out of the bottle with his teeth before draining half of it. 

He’s grateful for the rum and all, but he’s not about to let  _ Sanji _ act all pretentious and wise with him.

"Seriously? What could you possibly know about what I'm feeling right now? Every time you see a pair of tits, you turn into even more of an idiot.” 

Zoro sees Sanji’s eyes narrow but has no intention of giving him a chance to respond.

“You go off yelling some bullshit about how 'love is a hurricane' or whatever, but I highly doubt you even know what love is, because right now? Right now what I know about love is that it fucking sucks."

Sanji opens his mouth to speak, but Zoro holds up a finger to keep him quiet while he finishes off the rest of the bottle.

"You're conceited and shallow, and I refuse to believe you're trying to help me out of the goodness of your heart or some shit,” Zoro says, placing the empty bottle down on the bench next to him. “So no, cook. I don't need or want your pity or your shitty help. I just want to be alone. So leave now or I'll throw you out the goddamn window myself."

Sanji, to his credit, stays almost completely silent throughout Zoro's entire rant, which is not lost on the swordsman.

Only after an uncomfortable moment of silent staring does he speak.

"Do you know where that phrase comes from, marimo?” Sanji asks with a sigh. “You should, I mean, it's a very common saying in the East Blue."

Zoro clenches his jaw and raises an impatient eyebrow. He had just insulted Sanji in the worst way he could think of and told him to leave. Why isn't he leaving?

"I mostly grew up on a ship, Zoro,” Sanji continues. “In fact, in my entire life, I've never actually lived on a proper island. So, as you can probably guess, I've seen my fair share of storms."

How old is the cook again? Right now he's acting like he's older than Brook with this pointless story.

"Tell me Zoro, have you ever actually experienced a hurricane? I have. The wind, the rain, the devastation it leaves in its wake. Lives torn to shreds. It's a force to be reckoned with, and it certainly isn't pretty.”

Wait, what is the cook trying to say--

“Love is a lot like that, _e__specially_ when it's unreturned. It rips into your life completely unannounced, and then just as quickly, it leaves you picking up the pieces it left behind."

Sanji is standing now, tossing another bottle at Zoro, who remains dumbfounded by his words and almost drops it. 

Wait.

Did the cook -- who dances around with hearts in his eyes at the mere mention of a woman -- just accurately describe how Zoro feels with a stupid metaphor? 

Sanji now has his hand on the hatch, but before he opens it, he stops to say one last thing.

"Zoro. Don't you ever --  _ ever _ \-- fucking assume you know everything about me. You know  _ nothing. _ "

And with that, he's gone. Down the hatch and off to who knows where, while Zoro tries to make sense of whatever the fuck just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I really don't like writing them arguing and being awful to each other, but there's gotta be conflict somewhere. It's all for the plot! I'm on [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux) if you want to yell at me for this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here he is in the kitchen holding a full cup of coffee in his hands, and what's worse, he's looking downright bashful about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux)
> 
> EDIT: Slightly rewritten as of 6/18/2020

Sanji is currently dreaming.

-*-*-*- 

He's swimming through the ocean, passing by forests of kelp, giant coral reefs, and thousands upon thousands of beautiful, vibrant fish.

How he got here, he doesn't know, but that doesn’t matter so much. 

He doesn't want to leave any time soon. He feels happier than he's ever felt before in his life. 

The fish continue to swim past him, each a different size, shape, and color. Each just as beautiful as the one before.

He loves them all.

One fish, in particular, has been swimming next to him ever since he found himself here, however. A small goldfish, just as gorgeous as all the others, if not more so.

He isn’t sure how he knows this, but he understands that it's the goldfish who has been giving him the ability to breathe underwater this whole time, and he feels exceedingly grateful to it for that.

He reaches his hand out to thank the goldfish. He isn't sure how he plans to do that, though. Maybe stroke its scales or just tell it how much it means to him. 

Anything to express his love and gratitude. 

But as soon as he reaches his hand out, the goldfish startles and swims away from him. Far away from him, into the darkness. 

He can't breathe anymore now that the goldfish is gone. He tries to swim after it, but the darkness is closing in too fast.

He's drowning. 

-*-*-*-

Sanji wakes up soaked in sweat and gasping for air. 

_ Holy shit, _ why is it so hard to breathe? He grips the edges of his hammock as he tries to calm his racing heart. 

It takes patience, but this is something he's done many times before. No one lives the type of life he's lived and comes out of it without a few scars here and there.

Fuck, he hasn't had a dream that vivid in a long-ass time, though.

Usually, his nightmares are all hazy blood and guts, maybe an evil, abusive, war-mongering family thrown in every once in a while to shake things up.

But damn, that one had really sucked. 

He looks to the clock on the wall to help in deciding whether he should go back to sleep or not and has to focus his eyes for a moment in the darkness of the men’s bunkroom.

A little after 3:30 am. Might as well get up and go greet the day, then.

He swings his legs out of the hammock, noting that a certain swamp creature is still missing from his.

Asshat probably still hasn't come down from the crow's nest. What's he going to do, stay up there forever? 

Surely he'll need to come down to use the bathroom at some point, right? Or something. 

Well, whatever. 

Sanji doesn't really care about that right now. Truth be told, he's still pretty pissed off about what went down last night.

He had brought that asshole two bottles of the good stuff. _ Two whole bottles. _

He'd also been planning on sharing them with the other man, but still. 

And what did the fucker do to repay him? He spat in his face, that's what he did. 

It's not like Sanji had even wanted a 'thank you' or anything. He had really, truly just wanted to help in some way. Whatever way possible.

Maybe Luffy was wrong this time. Maybe Sanji really can’t help.

He hates the thought of letting his captain down, though.

As Sanji heads toward the shower, he thinks more about the conversation he’d had with Zoro -- if you could even call that shitshow a conversation at all. 

Zoro had gotten preemptively angry at him when he’d confessed to overhearing. 

Like he had been _ expecting _ Sanji to mock or ridicule him for what happened with Luffy, and he wanted to protect himself from it somehow.

Sanji knows, deep down, that Zoro probably hadn't meant everything he said. That it was probably just the hurt talking. 

As much as they bump heads, they’ve never been _ that _ nasty with each other before.

An injured animal will lash out at its own caretaker even, and Sanji had just been the most accessible target at the time. 

Truthfully, though, he would never mock someone over a broken heart; not even Zoro. That would go against everything he believes in as a man.

Sure, there's a lot of animosity between the two of them, but they don't really hate each other. 

They're crewmates. Allies. Sometimes, when he's in a particularly good mood, the blond might even consider them friends.

No. Sanji doesn't hate Zoro at all. 

But whether the marimo feels the same or not, he'll probably never know. He isn't a goddamn mind reader.

Sanji feels some of the tension begin to seep out of his muscles as he steps under the warm spray and rolls his shoulders. 

Yeah, he did _ not _ sleep well at all last night, did he? He’ll need coffee, pronto, if he's going to get through another day of feeding the insatiable.

A few minutes later, he's out of the shower, feeling fresh and light on his feet, ready to start the day.

It's 4:15 in the morning and he's already got an early start, lack of sleep be damned. 

Maybe he'll do his stretches out on the lawn today, and watch the sun rise. That actually sounds pretty nice.

As he's walking toward the grassy area, however, he notices a light on in the galley, glowing against the darkness of the rest of the ship. 

Huh. 

Sanji knows for a fact he didn't forget to turn it off last night, so that means someone's in his kitchen without permission.

He tries to recall if any of the other men had been missing from their hammocks earlier, but he honestly hadn't been paying much attention to them.

As he draws near to the galley door, he smells the welcoming scent of freshly-brewed coffee in the air. 

Ah, must be the lovely Robin then. Her sleeping schedule can sometimes be as erratic as his own. 

When Sanji pushes the door open, however, it isn't a beautiful woman with long, black hair sitting in his kitchen, but an angry-looking man with stupid green hair instead. 

Why is Zoro in his kitchen making coffee at a time when he's usually just getting to sleep?

No, scratch that. Why is Zoro in his kitchen at all?

Sanji shakes his head and decides to just ask because he is _ so _ done with trying to figure this man out.

"What are you doing?"

Zoro scratches the back of his head while keeping his eye trained on Sanji's feet. Possibly expecting an attack at any moment. Rightly so.

"I was just... um,” Zoro mumbles. “I made some coffee..."

Sanji is more than a bit perplexed. He's never once seen Zoro drink coffee -- though he could probably use a cup or two with how much his lazy ass sleeps. 

Yet, here he is in the kitchen holding a full cup in his hands, and what's worse, he's looking downright _ bashful _ about it. 

“Right, sure.” Sanji takes a few careful steps forward into the kitchen. “But you don't drink coffee, moss head, so I'll ask you again. What _ exactly _ are you doing?”

Zoro lets out a small noise that sounds like something between a growl and a groan, right as his cheeks start going pink.

Wait-- is he embarrassed? Is Pirate Hunter Zoro getting flustered right now?

What the hell for? But _ oh, _ this is just too good. 

Sanji decides that, instead of helping Zoro out, it would probably be best to sit and watch him flounder with his words for a bit.

And flounder he does.

“Look— Listen, I— Ugh.” Zoro’s face changes from pink to red. “Fuck. Here, this is for you."

Sanji takes the cup Zoro hands to him and glances questioningly down at the dark beverage, before looking back up at the swordsman.

“Why.”

“Can you just-- drink it, dammit?”

“You’re awfully insistent.” Sanji can’t help but grin at the situation. “This isn't poisoned, is it?”

Zoro rolls his eyes, but Sanji thinks he can see a faint smile trying to break through.

"If it were, do you really think I would tell you?"

Sanji chuckles and raises the mug toward his crewmate as if to say _ touché, _ then takes a tentative sip.

Oh, this is disgusting. God-awful. Did he even_ try _to filter out the grounds? Holy shit.

The worst cup of coffee Sanji’s ever had in his life.

But he can't waste it, unfortunately, as that goes against his principles. That and, he has a feeling this is about more than just coffee.

Sanji stares at Zoro, waiting for him to continue with his explanation and raises his eyebrows when the man takes too long to do so.

Then Zoro crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks Sanji right in the eye, obviously feeling more confident now in his endeavor.

“I want to apologize for last night,” he begins. “It was- unfair of me to treat you that way when you didn't actually do anything wrong, so... I'm sorry.”

Now that's unexpected. Has this man ever once apologized to him before? For anything?

Now it's Sanji's turn to flounder. 

"Y-you-- you're... _ Really? _"

Zoro nods once. 

“Yeah, cook. I don't lie.” He takes the empty mug from Sanji’s hand and places it in the sink. “And I was thinking about the other thing you said, too. About you trying to help? What... what exactly did you mean by that?"

That isn't something Sanji is prepared to talk about so early in the morning. Especially not when he's as sober as he is right now.

That’s a conversation that will have to wait.

“Tell you what, marimo,” Sanji says. “I'll tell you everything you want to know, on one condition."

He holds up his index finger before pointing it at the swordsman. 

"You have to show up for breakfast just like everyone else. Nothing is ever going to go back to the way it used to be if you keep ignoring your problems. Trust me."

That hesitance in Zoro's eyes has returned full force now, but Sanji won't have it. 

It is _ far _ too disturbing to see the other man like this, especially when he knows exactly how strong he really is.

As much as they get on each other's nerves, he really does care about his crewmate, moss brain or not. And he genuinely wants to help him through this however he can. 

He _ will _ help him through this.

So Sanji says something he knows will kick the other man's ass in gear.

"Unless… you want to be a coward about it. Maybe you're just too weak to tough it out?"

The swordsman's doubtful eye immediately narrows with indignance.

Yep. There it is. _ That's _ the familiar spark he's looking for.

"You wanna run that by me again?" Zoro responds as he subconsciously repositions his stance. Relaxed, but ready.

Sanji won't back down, though. 

“You heard me, bastard, now get out of here so I can make a drinkable cup of coffee and plan our meals for today.” He crosses his arms as he stands his ground. “Breakfast will be ready in a couple of hours if you were wanting to prove me wrong.”

Zoro pauses, as though mulling his options over. Then he takes a deep breath, takes one step back, and turns to walk away, stomping a little more loudly than necessary.

Great choice.

As Sanji turns to prepare for the day ahead, he hardly notices the smile that plays at his own lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting places! Slowly, but surely. I just want them to be nice to each other for once in their lives. 
> 
> Anyways, please let me know if you're enjoying this so far. Your comments are giving me the confidence to write this, so even if you leave like an eggplant emoji or something, I will cherish that eggplant emoji for the rest of my life. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, if the cook needs to get shit-faced just to talk about his past, then who is he to stop him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for alcohol consumption.
> 
> Soo this chapter ended up being the longest one yet. I tried to find a spot to maybe split it into two chapters, but it ended up messing with the flow of the story, so I just kept it as-is. 
> 
> Also, I want to say thank you for all the comments and kudos! Every time I see a new comment in my inbox I literally squeal, so they are very much appreciated! Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this one. :)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux)

Zoro is currently patting himself on the back for not only surviving breakfast, but lunch and dinner as well. Which is a sentence he never once in his life thought would ever need to be said about him, yet here we are.

After that obvious challenge from the cook this morning, there was _no way _he was going to miss it though.

He’s not an idiot. Of course he knows the blonde only called him weak to manipulate his sense of pride. 

It’s not the first time he’s done something like that, and it won’t be the last. And Zoro’s done the same to him in the past. It’s just how they work.

But manipulation or no manipulation, he had shown up and was actually able to eat a fairly healthy amount, even with the object of his heartache sitting two seats down from him.

Chopper, of course, had asked if he was feeling alright. Well, they all did actually, seeing as he’d pretty much up and vanished for a day.

“Guys, I’m fine,” he’d said with a small chuckle, “I guess I just got a bit carried away with my training yesterday. Definitely nothing to worry about.” 

He doesn’t want them to worry over him any more than necessary, if at all.

Because that’s his job, isn’t it? To protect. To worry. To make sure no harm comes to anyone else, even at his own expense.

But even after satisfying his crew’s questions, he could still sense eyes on him, even though he couldn’t see anyone watching him. 

Weird. Whatever.

After breakfast was over, he accidentally (kind of, but not really) made eye contact with Luffy, who then smiled that bright smile at him like always, before patting him on the shoulder and walking out the door.

Zoro had to wait a few seconds for his heart to crawl back down out of his throat before he could begin thinking coherent thoughts again.

He didn’t really know what he’d expected to happen. But whatever it was, he wouldn’t have been prepared for it.

He definitely hadn’t been expecting the nod of affirmation he got from the cook, either. Almost like a_ ‘well done’ _which, in and of itself, is fucking strange coming from Sanji.

At some point between lunch and dinner, though, he’d finally figured out whose eyes had been watching him all day.

Or, rather, whose _lack _of eyes.

“Zoro, sir, if you don’t mind me asking, are you _truly_ feeling well?”

The swordsman had cracked his one good eye open and peeked up at his creepy, yet well-mannered crewmate who had plopped down next to him at some point.

Brook is much, much more observant and thoughtful than most give him credit for. 

Though Zoro had bet on Robin being the first to notice something was amiss, he isn’t surprised at all that Brook was the first to bring it up.

“Nothing’s wrong with me if that’s what you’re asking.”

Brook, expressionless as ever, brought a hand (bone?) to his jawbone.

“Hmmm. Well, I’ll take your word for it. But I wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Zoro asked, warily. 

It’s not that he’s trying to keep things from his crewmates, he just doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary tension aboard the Sunny, especially while on a sea as unforgiving as this one. It could cause a disaster, and Zoro's supposed to be the one preventing those, not causing them.

“Well, if I’m not overstepping any boundaries, I will say that ever since yesterday something has been a tad… off. Particularly around yourself, Sanji, and Luffy. I suppose I merely wish to offer my assistance if needed.”

Zoro felt his heart tug a little at that statement — in a good way, that is — and his expression softened, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Even Brook, who had been the last to join the crew, and has thus spent the least amount of time around everyone, knows them all well enough to tell when something’s not right.

Not only that, he cares enough to try and help fix the problem, even if he doesn’t know exactly what it may be.

Now, that’s a friend right there.

“I appreciate that, Brook. I really do,” Zoro replied. “But whatever’s going on with me and Luffy... and the cook too, I guess. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

Brook seemed to relax at that. As much as a pile of bones could, anyway. Everyone on this ship knows Zoro’s word is as solid as the steel of his swords.

“Well, that certainly puts my heart at ease.”

Zoro perked up at the missed opportunity for a skull joke. _ No fucking way _he's gonna leave that hanging. 

“. . . Even though you haven’t got one?”

Brook paused for a second. And then let out the most raucous laugh Zoro had heard in a good long while. It made him feel miles better in an instant.

“_ YOHOHOHOHO _ YOU GOT ME THERE!”

-*-*-*-

Now it’s after dark and Zoro is about to force the cook to make good on his promise. 

He knows good and well that he won’t have to _force _ Sanji into anything, of course. The cook won’t back down from his promise because, again, that’s just how they work. 

But still, it can be fun to pretend, and after his conversation with Brook earlier, he's kind of in a playful mood.

Zoro silently closes the galley door behind him, knowing the cook has his back turned and guard down as he washes the dishes.

He waits in silence for a moment and then speaks out as loudly and abruptly as he possibly can.

**“It’s time, cook.”**

_ CRASH _

_ “Fuck!” _

And it isn’t half a second before an irate blond comes barreling around the bar looking for a fight.

Zoro, grinning in triumph, feels obliged to give him one. He readies his stance, opting to let the cook strike first.

But the blow never comes.

Sanji, upon seeing the man who quite obviously startled him _on purpose_, decides _not _to take the bait and instead turns right back around to clean up the mess he made.

Well, that was almost as bad as getting a kick straight to the jaw. Almost.

Zoro stalks after him.

“See, this is what I wanted to talk about this morning. You’re acting weird, cook.”

Sanji grabs a broom to sweep up the smaller pieces of glass.

"And you're surprised by this… why exactly? Of fucking course I'm acting weird, I thought we'd already been over this."

Okay, yeah. That kind of makes sense. But Zoro isn't quite ready to let up yet.

"So then are you gonna answer my questions now or not?" He asks with slightly more force than he had intended to. 

Sanji brandishes the broom at him like it's a cutlass. 

"And how the fuck do you think you have the right to demand shit from me? I said I'd answer your damn questions, didn't I? Now go sit the fuck down and wait."

Under normal circumstances, Zoro would have had a snappy comeback, but right now his brain is occupied by the fact that if that broom really had been a sword, then the cook would actually be holding it correctly. With near-perfect form, no less.

Huh. Sanji with a sword. Now _that's _a disturbing thought.

He sits down at the head of the table and waits for the cook to slide into the seat next to it.

“Alright Marimo, here’s how we’re gonna do this. As it stands, I still can’t talk about this shit while completely sober so we’re gonna play a little drinking game. Okay?”

Zoro perks up at that. Well, if the cook needs to get shit-faced just to talk about his past, then who is he to stop him?

“Alright blondie, I’m down. So what’s the game?”

Sanji just gives him an annoyed look, like he should have been able to read his mind or some shit. 

“The game is this, _ mossy_. You ask a question and I take a shot before answering. If the question is particularly uncomfortable, then I might take two shots. How’s that sound?”

Zoro groans and slaps a hand to his face. He should’ve fucking known.

“Listen, I don’t give a fuck how inebriated you need to be, as long as I get my share too.”

The cook raps his knuckles against the table a few times, sort of in a playful type of rhythm, and hops up to get the desired bottles.

Now, Zoro is fairly good at reading people. It comes with the territory of being an adept swordsman.

Well, most people at least. He winces at the thought of his most recent failure at reading a certain someone.

The cook, however, is an entirely different story. Sometimes, he’s an open book, heart on his sleeve for all the world to see.

Other times — such as this very moment — he’s guarded. Emotions locked up tighter than Impel Down. 

As of right now, Zoro can’t tell if Sanji is putting on an air of enthusiasm to hide his dread for this conversation or if he’s just really fucking excited about getting hammered for some reason.

Either way, it’s fucking weird. Ugh, why is Zoro doing this again? 

Oh right, because anything — _literally anything —_ is better than wallowing alone in agony.

Sanji is back at the table now, bottles, shot glasses, and corkscrew in hand. 

Zoro forgoes the corkscrew and glass, however, opting to open the bottle with his teeth and drink straight from it like he normally does.

“Fucking savage,” he hears Sanji mutter under his breath.

He notices the cook’s wine is missing from the table. Or as Zoro likes to call it, ‘fancy flavored water.’

"Going for the hard stuff tonight, eh cook?"

Sanji just chuckles and looks him right in the eye.

"Sometimes it takes the hard stuff to really hit the spot, if you know what I mean."

. . . No. Zoro really doesn't know what he means. All the swordsman ever drinks is hard liquor.

Shit, has the cook been drinking already? Zoro knows he’s a lightweight, but damn.

"Whatever, first question. Why did you listen in on my conversation with Luffy yesterday?"

Sanji takes a shot and his face pinches up at the burn.

“That really was an accident. I didn’t even realize what I was listening to at first until it was too late. Believe me, I wish I _ hadn’t _ heard.”

“Okay, so if you really ‘wish you hadn’t heard,’ why did you come up and try to talk to me last night?” Zoro’s still confused about that. What exactly is the cook getting out of this?

Another shot.

“A few reasons, actually.” Sanji puts up a finger as he counts off. 

“One, because you missed dinner and our friends were asking questions. I’m 99% sure you would rather I have found you like that than Chopper. Two, Luffy asked me to. He saw me listening and asked me to talk to you because_ three_, I’ve, uh… been in a kind of similar situation.”

The cook looks away after dropping that bomb. Zoro almost jumps out of his seat.

_ “What? You were in love with Luffy too?” _

Shot.

“_No, you jackass. _I was not in love with Luffy, _ holy fuck._”

Sanji looks like he doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry or do both. But Zoro isn’t doing either.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Who was it, then?”

Two shots. Damn.

Sanji looks down and idly scratches at the table.

“I’m sure you can figure that out for yourself, moss head. If you allow yourself to think for more than two seconds.”

“Who- Wait. Was it _ Nami? _” Sanji says nothing. “But you act just as stupid around her as any other woman. How is that _anything_ like what I'm going through?”

Sanji keeps his eyes on the table and forgets to take a shot this time, but Zoro isn’t about to remind him.

“You do know there’s a difference between loving someone and being in love with them, right? I mean, I’m sure whatever you have for Luffy is real and all, but so was what I felt for her… It was different from what I usually express on the outside.”

He rests his head in his hands but keeps talking.

“I fell for her the moment I saw her. Hard. It was so… overpowering, it scared me. So I just held it in, carried on like normal. I didn’t want to ruin the bond our crew had just begun to form, so I didn’t tell her. At first.”

Zoro almost doesn’t want to ask his next question. He’s never seen the cook so open and raw before. He feels like one wrong move will make him clam up again.

Shit, maybe Sanji really does understand.

“So… what happened?”

Just one this time.

“Remember the Davy Back Fight?”

Zoro nods. God, how could he forget? He hopes he never has to see Foxy’s pear-shaped ass ever again.

“Well, when we almost lost Chopper to that split-headed freak, it kinda fucked me up for a while. Had me thinking about how I didn’t want either Nami or myself to die or be taken away without her knowing how I felt about her. I mean, you know… How I really felt.”

“Fuck, Cook, that’s morbid as hell.”

Sanji only gives a half-smile and shrugs one shoulder.

“Anyway, long story short, I told her everything the night before we got to Water 7. And she… Well, I’m sure you know by now she’s not into men. None of us had any clue at the time, though. I guess at first it kind of helped that it wasn’t just me she was rejecting, but my entire gender.”

Sanji chuckles a little at that, before donning a more serious expression.

“But that… She didn’t exactly take it well. I think I scared her away or something because, for a while, she could hardly even look at me, much less talk to me. And I don’t blame her, either. I mean, what do you do when one of your best friends, who you _ live _ with, confesses their love for you, but you don’t feel the same way?”

Zoro cringes internally at that. It hit a little too close to home.

“That’s… that’s insane, cook. I had no idea about any of this.”

Sanji shakes his head.

“I’m pretty sure only Luffy knows. I don’t know _how _he knows, but… Besides, weren’t we all going a little crazy at the time?”

That’s true. Zoro remembers first Usopp’s falling out with Luffy over the Merry and then the fiasco with Robin leaving. And the cook… That’s right, the cook ran off to fight CP9 alone, didn’t he?

“Wait— is that why you…?” Zoro begins, but Sanji finishes for him.

“Is that why I ran off after Robin when it could have easily gotten me killed? Maybe. I don’t really remember much about my reasoning at the time, but I do remember that I was feeling way more reckless with my life than usual. On the other hand, broken heart or not, I probably still would have boarded that train anyway,” Sanji says with a wry smile.

Yeah, sounds about right. Idiot that he is.

But hearing about Sanji’s experience with Nami… well, Zoro could definitely relate to it. There was something he was still curious about, though.

“So, how did you… I mean you two _ are _back to normal now, right?”

Sanji appears to have remembered the “drinking game,” because he takes another shot at that question. It doesn’t seem to have gone down as smoothly as the others.

“_ Ugh_. Trial and error, Marimo, trial and error.”

“Huh?” Zoro guesses the cook has reached his limit because he’s talking nonsense now.

Sanji pops the joints in his neck on one side, then the other, obviously feeling pretty loose now from the alcohol. It isn’t enough to give Zoro a buzz, but the cook seems to be well on his way to pleasantly tipsy.

“Yeah, we’re back to normal. I mean, hell, it’s been_ two years_, and we're family, so of course we are. Not without a speed bump or two along the way, though. Mostly on my part. That’s what I meant by trial and error.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.” Zoro rests his chin on his hand and raises an eyebrow at the blond.

Sanji takes an uneasy look at the bottle in his hand, then shrugs and pours another shot anyway.

“What I mean,_ dumbass_, is that I had to figure _everything_ out on my own, basically. I had to get over Nami, but _fuck_ if I knew how, man. I did some crazy shit, but-- I learned a lot about myself in the process too, so I think it turned out for the best, you know?”

Zoro doesn’t answer. He has more questions to ask, but he can see the cook’s eyes are a little unfocused, so he figures now is as good a time as ever to stop.

Besides, he’s seen the cook black-out drunk before, and it really isn’t a pleasant sight. 

One of those times suddenly flashes through his mind. The party at Water 7 after they returned from Enies Lobby. Sanji had been drunker than the swordsman had ever seen him before.

Oh. That was right after… He must have been feeling very much the same as Zoro feels now. He-- Fuck, he’d had no idea.

And now, even though their relationship has been nothing but antagonistic for so long - even now, Sanji's trying to help him out so he doesn’t have to go through the same things the cook did.

Damn.

Maybe… maybe there really is more to this idiot than he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I had to slip a talk with grandpa skellington in there, he's my favorite character! The way I see the Straw Hat crew is this: They are as close as family, and they all love each other very much and would do anything for each other. Some are just better at showing it than others. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and don't hesitate to let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nice, this newfound friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! This chapter's pretty short but I hope you like it anyway! I was actually stuck for a while on this. I had an entirely different chapter written out and everything, but I wasn't happy with it at all so I deleted the whole thing and started the chapter over from scratch. I think I'm happy with how it turned out now, though. :)
> 
> Something I realized while editing: This story takes place before the events of WCI. Also, Law isn't with them, so I guess it takes place before Punk Hazard too lol.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux)

Over the next few weeks, things start to change between Sanji and Zoro, and that’s something that Sanji is currently thinking about. A lot.

"So what's up with you and Zoro?" Usopp had asked one afternoon while they were looking at fish in the aquarium.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Usopp," Sanji had shot back, rather defensively. 

The sniper is unfazed though, used to his crewmate's abrasive behavior. "_You know_," he says and punches Sanji lightly on the shoulder. "You guys don't really fight anymore. At least not like you used to. N-not that I'm complaining, though!"

He's right. While they still spar occasionally, their usual vicious arguments and attacks have practically ceased to exist. Apparently it hasn't gone unnoticed, either. 

And while he trusts Usopp with his life, he isn't quite ready to tell him the whole story just yet.

So he shrugs and says, "I guess we matured out of it. We both had to grow up sometime, right?"

But it isn’t just that he and the swordsman are friendlier to each other, which is certainly true. They’ve also been spending a lot more time with each other, often just the two of them.

It’s simple things. 

One might find Zoro napping at the dining table while Sanji cooks or takes inventory or reorganizes the kitchen for the hundredth time. 

One might also find Sanji keeping Zoro company while he cleans and sharpens his swords. It’s a ritual that’s very different from when the cook sharpens his kitchen knives, but the intent behind the action is still the same. It’s almost intimate.

He’s come to understand that Zoro’s swords are an extension of the man, and are just as much a part of the swordsman as Sanji’s feet are part of himself.

He even let the moss head sharpen his kitchen knives recently when he (surprisingly) asked if he could help with anything. Sanji had trusted him enough not to completely screw it up and, well. 

His trust certainly did not go undeserved. Now his knives are in near-pristine condition, almost as perfect as when he first bought them.

They also talk sometimes. Occasionally about deep stuff, but more often than not, they just talk about anything and nothing. Rambling to each other about the past, present, and future. Asking questions. Telling jokes and stories.

You see, something snapped after they had their drunken heart-to-heart in the galley that night. The annoyance and irritation they had held toward each for _so long _had simply melted away.

There’s an understanding between the two men now that, yeah they both have shortcomings that might annoy the piss out of the other. But at the end of the day, they are both much, much more than their aggravating mannerisms and habits.

But while he finds he enjoys this new casual companionship he has with the swordsman, Sanji can't help but feel a small amount of doubt creep into his mind. 

He can't shake the feeling that he's just a distraction, a shoddy replacement for what Zoro had with Luffy. 

He quickly squashes down the small flicker of resentment - _or is it jealousy?_ \- he feels before it can rear its ugly head.

Sanji wishes he could kick the shit out of toxic thoughts as easily as he could kick the shit out of Marines. 

Zoro's got some stuff to work through, and he needs all the help he can get. Who cares if he's only acting as a replacement? If that's what the moss head needs right now, then that's what he's damn well gonna get. 

That’s why Sanji doesn’t snap at Zoro when he asks why he always keeps one of his eyes covered. And Zoro doesn’t laugh when Sanji shows him both of his eyebrows at once.

It's nice, this newfound friendship. It's a camaraderie that's allowing them to keep each other company during Sanji's watch, chatting the night away. The Marimo usually doesn't go to bed until four in the morning, anyway. 

"So why do your eyebrows curl like that?" Zoro asks.

Sanji shrugs. "I dunno. I was born with them. Never really questioned it."

"Really? I mean you must have been curious at some point right? Being the only person alive with eyebrows like that," the swordsman presses.

"I'm not, though," Sanji says to himself, almost too quiet to hear. But Zoro still catches it.

"What do you mean by that?"

Sanji feels the blood drain from his face and he's almost certain the swordsman can tell. Has he really gotten comfortable enough with Zoro that he would let something like that slip?

"Oh. I mean--" Sanji's mind races. "You remember that guy Duval, right? Who tried to kidnap Camie and looked just like my first wanted poster?"

Technically it wasn't a lie, even though it definitely hadn't been Duval he was thinking of. They're both quiet for a moment. 

"Sanji."

His head snaps up at that. Had he _ever_ heard his name come out of Zoro's mouth before? It sounds fucking strange.

"You don't have to lie to me, you know." Zoro smiles at him. An _actual honest-to-god smile _aimed directly at Sanji. "I think it's probably safe to say we're friends now. Right?"

Oh no. Oh, _fuck _ no. He _cannot_ be getting warm fuzzies for this man in front of him right now. In no way, shape, or form has Zoro ever made him feel happy.

But. Now he is. Dammit. Shit. Fuck. Sanji can barely suppress a smile of his own.

Look at all the good that simply talking to each other can do for people. Finally getting all that stuff about Nami off his chest had done wonders for him mentally and emotionally, so maybe…

Sanji doesn't tell Zoro everything - he doesn't need to know everything - but he does end up telling him that he has a biological family somewhere in North Blue that he hasn't seen in well over a decade. And that if he ever saw any of them again in his life, it would be too soon.

He decides that's all he can say for now. Any more would just be too much.

The Marimo doesn't have enough time to ask more questions about them, either, because Sanji, thankfully, spots land on the horizon. 

"Hey! Land ho, Mossy. We'd better go wake everyone up," he says, rushing to the hatch.

Sanji knows he's running away from talking about his past again, but that's not really the whole story here.

No, there was something else there. Something dangerous. It was in that smile Zoro had given him when he called them friends.

In that moment, Sanji's heart had stuttered, the air left his lungs, his mind went blank, and he knew in an instant that he was in trouble.

So in a way, yes. He _is_ still running from his past. Only this time, he's running from a little lesson he's already learned the hard way about falling for your friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and let me know your thoughts!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cook sure is being goddamn bold with his vocabulary choices tonight, isn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to post this now, or else I'll just keep looking at it forever and on into infinity.
> 
> Now, please enjoy this chapter in which Zoro can't catch a fucking break. :)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux)

It had all been typical for the most part. Well, whatever “typical” is for the Strawhat crew, in any case. 

Zoro had let the cook run off because, well, if Sanji's really that opposed to talking about whatever’s on his mind, then there is no way Zoro’s ever going to crack that safe. 

They’ve both done a lot of sharing the past few weeks, anyway. Zoro’s curiosity might be killing him, but... Better not push it. Not yet, at least.

Then, after they made landfall, things had gotten a little hectic. He'd be surprised if they hadn't.

A few mishaps, wrong turns, and a kidnapped doctor later, they found out the inhabitants of the island had all been enslaved by the Celestial Dragons for decades. The World Government chose to call it “employed,” but in Zoro’s experience, no “employee” willingly works 20 hours a day to farm food they’ll never even get to eat.

So the crew casually decided to spark up a revolution on the island and free the people. Not a big deal. Honestly, they’ve all been through and done worse.

And of course, Zoro didn’t mind at all. He’d been getting kind of bored, anyway. There was this violent itch he’d been needing to scratch, ever since he and Sanji had gotten on good terms with each other and stopped trying to rip each other’s throats out all the damn time.

Slicing up corrupt government officials had turned out to be just what he needed.

Now they’re partying it up with the locals and Zoro is currently nursing a bottle of whiskey on the outer edges of the glowing bonfire light, leaned up against the cool bark of a tree.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

He’s just starting to feel the beginning whispers of a buzz, when a flying body comes crashing into him, knocking him over and almost causing him to spill the booze he’d been sharing a moment with.

“What the—!” Zoro sputters, now completely sober from the adrenaline rush of physical assault. Dammit. All that hard work, wasted.

“Zorooooo! Why are you over here all alone?” Luffy asks, disentangling himself from his friend. “Come dance with Franky and me!”

Zoro takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to restart his heart, which had curiously stopped of its own accord. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because of Luffy in general or because he had just gotten body checked out of fucking nowhere. 

“I’m fine, Luffy, you go ahead. You know I don’t really dance... Ever.” 

And he doesn’t. The idea of Zoro dancing is like the idea of Nami being charitable. Just don’t feel right.

“C’monnn, please? Don’t be a loser, it’s fun!” Luffy pleads, tugging on his arm.

And as much as Zoro hates denying Luffy anything, this is something he won’t budge on. It’s not that he has anything against it, he’s just... uncomfortable with the idea of prancing around like an idiot.

“I told you, I’m fine. Seriously,” he says. “Why don’t you ask Usopp? He’s usually down for that kind of stuff.” 

If there's anyone on their crew as shamelessly fun-loving as Luffy, it's Usopp. At parties like these, you can usually find him singing his own praises and telling eccentric lies to strangers who don’t know any better.

Luffy thinks about Zoro’s suggestion for all of half a second before declaring it a “great idea!” and slapping him on the back, _ hard _.

And he’s about to run off again, but then Luffy stops in his tracks and turns back.

“Hey, Zoro?”

“Yeah?” He doesn't like the sober tone Luffy’s voice has taken.

“You really do seem fine.” Luffy grins, big and bright. “And I’m really, _really_ happy you’re not sad anymore. I guess Sanji isn’t as bad as you thought he was, huh.”

And at that, the captain is flinging himself bodily at someone else, carefree as ever.

Luffy isn’t wrong, exactly. But he isn't right.

No, Zoro isn’t heartbroken and desolate anymore like he was, but... he isn’t perfectly fine either. There’s this strange middle ground between the two. 

No Man’s Land? Zoro doesn’t really know what to call it, but he knows that’s where his heart has decided to set up camp. Somewhere between okay and not okay.

He still has those feelings for Luffy. That hasn’t changed all that much. But he’s on the path to accepting it and moving on. Not without a little push in the right direction, of course.

And as for Sanji...

Whatever. This is all way too complicated for him to handle right now. Time to get drunk. Yeah.

Not much time passes and Zoro’s almost halfway to tipsy when he feels a small weight resting on his knee. When he glances down, he finds big, brown eyes peering back at him, wordlessly boring into his soul.

Both Chopper and Zoro just stare at each other for a moment, neither one moving a muscle.

He doesn't know what to say or do and it starts to get kind of awkward after a while, so he tentatively reaches a hand over and starts scratching Chopper's head, between his ears. 

Hopefully those sad eyes will stop looking at him like that. They always make him feel so guilty, even though he has no idea what he should be feeling guilty for. 

"I'm worried about you," Chopper _finally_ says. 

He somehow knows the little doctor isn't just talking about his liver health this time, either.

Zoro sighs and rests his head back against the tree, lazily surveying the merriment all around them. "The cook told you?"

Chopper quickly shakes his head. "No! Sanji wouldn't tell us anything at all! Even when Nami tried to get it out of him, he still wouldn't say a word."

One corner of Zoro’s mouth twitches up in an involuntary grin. A couple of months ago, he might have been shocked by that declaration. 

While he is still mildly surprised that even Nami couldn't make him talk, he knows Sanji's character now. He knows now that he wouldn't betray the trust of a friend for anything. 

When Zoro doesn't respond, Chopper continues. "Listen... I may not know the whole story of what happened, but I think I understand the gist of it. I can just tell... I think everyone can." 

Zoro's chest clenches with the feeling of dread you get when you’re caught doing something you aren't supposed to.

Everyone...? So they all know?

He has absolutely nothing to hide from his friends, he knows that, but it's still embarrassing as all hell. Zoro’s eyes flick back down to Chopper's.

The surprise and apprehension must be written all over his face, because Chopper rolls his eyes and sticks a tiny hoof in Zoro’s face.

"Look, I may be a reindeer, but I'm not stupid." He’s repeatedly poking Zoro’s cheek now, as emphasis for each word. “And _ you’re _ the stupid one if you believe we’ll think any less of you for it.”

“Tsk.” 

Zoro knows that. Of course he does. He definitely hadn’t been nervous about his friends’ opinions, or anything. Doesn’t mean he wants a therapy session about it, though. 

A sly grin slowly spreads across his face as he gets an idea. This should be fun.

"Ohh so you’re a reindeer, huh? And here I thought you were a tanuki. Are you sure you're not just confused about what species you are?" he taunts.

Chopper looks incredibly hurt by that question. “Zoro... I’m not— I thought you kn—”

“Because last I heard,” Zoro interrupts, “reindeer aren’t so... ticklish!”

He takes the split second of shock and confusion to drag Chopper into his lap and tickle him within an inch of his life, not letting up until the little guy begs him to stop.

“Zoro! AHHH! Zoro stOP! ZORO PLEASE— AHHHAHHAH!”

Once Zoro finally relents, Chopper hastily scampers away to rejoin the party, spouting curses and insults all the way. And dammit, he still manages to make the most abhorrent words sound cute.

Ah, well. Where were we? Right. Bottle.

The night begins to turn a bit too cool for comfort and there’s a breeze nipping at Zoro’s exposed skin. Feels like autumn on an autumn island. His favorite.

A warm body slides down beside his and he looks over to see Sanji, just a tad drunker than he expected him to be, but still much more sober than the rest of the hooligans all around them. 

Wasn’t he supposed to be cooking for the starved islanders or something? Maybe he’s finally taking a break for once in his life.

Sanji hands him another bottle of whiskey and Zoro decides not to ask any questions because he had just started to run out of the first one.

They sit in comfortable silence and pass the bottle back and forth for a time. While Zoro prefers to be alone and unbothered more often than not, he’s found that sharing space with Sanji like this actually puts him in a pretty relaxed mood.

It’s something they’ve been doing quite a lot lately, and Zoro wonders, once again, why they never did this before.

You didn’t know each other before, he thinks. Didn’t want to.

"Saw Luffy over here earlier... You alright?"

Well, shit. There goes his good mood.

Zoro shrugs. He could say he's fine, whatever, no problem. But that would be a lie, and he strives to live his life without lies. It’s funny how the cook is the only person he has a hard time being honest with.

Well. He had demanded the truth from Sanji earlier, hadn't he? It's only fair that he opens up as well. 

"No, I guess I'm not okay. I thought... shit. I thought I would be over all of this by now. I thought that if _you_ of all people could get through it, then I definitely would."

"Gee, thanks a fucking lot," Sanji grumbles.

Zoro gives him an apologetic shove. "Whatever, you know what I mean."

The two are silent again. 

Zoro hears the flick of a lighter, and after a second or two, smells the unique scent of Sanji’s home-rolled cigarettes. The cook’s own tobacco blend, Zoro had recently learned. Doesn’t have that sickening artificial smell like the cheap ones other people buy in packs.

Sanji breaks the silence. "So what? You're just gonna give up? Throw in the towel? That doesn't sound like you at all, marimo."

His words are chiding, but the expression he's giving can only be described as soft. Zoro quickly looks away.

"No. I just... don't know what to do. I take one look at him and—" Zoro takes a steadying breath. “I always have some kind of plan, and then a backup plan if that plan fails.”

Sanji snickers. “Really? I thought your plan was always just ‘when in doubt, cut.’”

That... wasn’t actually far from the truth. Damn perceptive cook.

“And what of it?” Zoro mumbles.

Sanji takes another thoughtful drag of his cigarette. “You could always do what I did, I guess. But... Well, I don’t know..."

"What?" Zoro asks, interest fully piqued.

Sanji gives Zoro a sideways glance, runs a hand through his hair and exhales more smoke.

“Marimo, are you into women too, or just dumbasses exclusively?”

Zoro almost chokes on his whiskey. “The fuck are you talking about, curly?”

“What I’m _saying_ is, maybe you should get your dick wet. Fuck someone. You know, like a rebound or something? I'm sure one of these locals would kill for a night with you...”

The cook sure is being goddamn bold with his vocabulary choices tonight, isn't he?

“A rebound, huh.”

“Yep.”

“Cook, how much have you had to drink?”

“Not nearly enough, to be quite honest.”

If Zoro had smacked his hand to his forehead any harder, he might have given himself a concussion.

“I’m not just gonna go fuck some random guy on the off chance that it’ll make me feel better. I can’t just... do something like that with someone I don’t know or— or trust.”

“Fucking random guys helped me.”

Zoro frowns at the wording of that statement and looks over at Sanji, only to find him beet red and staring wide-eyed into the distance, like even he can’t believe what he just said.

It's painfully obvious that Sanji hadn’t meant to blurt that little tidbit out but, well... there it is. Zoro graciously decides to try and give his crewmate an out.

“You’re uh... But... You’re not gay?” he says, sounding more like he’s asking a question than making a statement. Fuck, this has gotten too awkward, too fast.

Sanji seems to gather his thoughts, though, and rubs at his temples with one hand like he’s trying to dispel a migraine.

“No... No, I’m not,” he sighs.

Zoro nods and sips at his bottle again, fully intent on leaving it at that, but Sanji continues still.

“I’m actually bi.”

The contents of Zoro’s second whiskey are now completely drenching the front of his chest. Wonderful. Definitely not getting drunk now.

Out of all the things he’d been prepared for today, having Sanji accidentally come out to him at an after-battle party was not one of them.

"Okay... Well... I _am_ gay," Zoro says while feebly attempting to dry himself off. "And fucking strangers isn't something— I mean, maybe it helped you somehow, but it's just not appealing to me."

Sanji seems more relaxed now that the conversation has progressed. Honestly, Zoro doesn't understand why he was so nervous about it in the first place. Between himself, Nami, and probably Brook (he'll ask anyone for their panties, gender be damned), Sanji being bisexual isn't too much of a shocker.

He vaguely begins to wonder what the cook's type is before Sanji's voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I figured that was the case. You never were all that interested in anyone. Well, anyone but..." Sanji trails off without finishing that sentence. "Still, it doesn't hurt to ask."

Neither of them have much to say after that, and it isn't long before Sanji rocks up to his feet and dusts himself off.

"Well, I'd better get back. All the food's probably annihilated by now."

Zoro stands too, about ready to head back to the ship and pass out. They'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon and he won't have time for his usual naps, so he wants to get as much rest as possible.

But despite his efforts, he won't sleep very well that night. No, he'll hardly sleep at all.

What Sanji says before walking back into the throngs of happy people will make his stomach drop ever so slightly. It'll have his mind turning over and over again all night, wondering and worrying.

"Don't wait up for me," Sanji says. "I doubt I'll be coming back to the Sunny until tomorrow. I think... I think I'm gonna take my own advice tonight."

Where did he go? What is he doing? Who is he with?

_Why does it fucking bother me so much?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell by now, I'm a sucker for soft interactions between crewmates, and big bro Zoro being soft with Chopper is just *chef's kiss* Also, I like to read Zoro as demi as well as as gay, so I kinda tried to portray that here. Strangers just don't do it for him, man! Gotta have that personal connection first. :)
> 
> If you want to say anything or have any questions at all, please let me know in the comments! 💜


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cook and marimo, two peas in a goddamn pod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so damn long to get out. A lot of things have been happening in my life lately, and I haven't had the time to sit and write like I want to, PLUS I got sidetracked by some other things I wrote over the past couple months. But now I'm back! On top of everything else, this chapter was difficult, but I think I'm finally happy with it. I hope y'all are too :)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux)

It’s been three weeks since the party, and Sanji is currently in limbo. Figuratively speaking, of course. There won’t be any limbo for Sanji when he dies, he’s sure of it. He’s going straight to hell to cook for the devil, and he wouldn't want it any other way. But back to the matter at hand.

Sanji isn’t sure if it’s just a natural progression of their now-friendly relationship, or if Zoro’s actually the one being weird. Well, weirder than a green-haired man who regularly wields a sword in his mouth usually is, anyway. It’s always a toss-up with him.

Who can really tell, though? Certainly not Sanji. He’s never actually been close to another person like this before. Emotionally, of course. He’s never let another person in like this, let alone another man. Before the moss head, men were just a means to an end for Sanji. A good lay here and there. Never anything more.

And before Zoro, he would never lie awake in his hammock at night, sacrificing what few hours of sleep he already gets to let those thoughts run through his head. You know the ones. Thoughts of fingers intertwined, lips ghosting over skin, a gray eye shining in the darkness full of desire and another word he doesn’t quite want to think about yet. 

But what aggravates Sanji the most is that his thoughts aren’t all just sexual in nature, for once. There's also thoughts of how it would feel to fall asleep and wake up next to the other man. To idly run fingers through his hair while he naps with his head in Sanji’s lap or to plop himself down in Zoro’s whenever he damn well feels like it. Because he can. To know the other man better than he knows himself, and to be known in the very same way. To feel like maybe, just maybe, he deserves to be—

See, fucking is easy. It’s something he understands and knows how to deal with. If the only thing Sanji felt for the mosshead was tightness in his pants, then this whole situation would have been over much, much more quickly. But of course, life has never been kind to Sanji before, so why start now?

And there's more. Now, Zoro’s just being so... clingy? Which really isn’t too much of a problem except for the fact that it’s causing Sanji’s poor heart to work in overdrive. Hell, he’s just realized recently that he might have developed feelings for a fucking overgrown ball of moss, and now that same ball of moss is latching onto him like he’s some kind of nutrient-rich soil.

Okay, might have gone a bit overboard with the moss metaphor, but the fact remains.

Instead of sitting at the galley table while Sanji works, now he leans on the counter right next to him. Sometimes he doesn’t even say anything. He’ll just stand there like a fucking gargoyle and watch.

He’s also getting pretty touchy which, for Sanji, is strangely terrifying and torturous but also incredibly exhilarating all the same. The only time they’d ever touched each other in the past was when they were either beating the shit out of each other or beating the shit out of some unlucky bastard together.

Now though, it’s a touch of fingertips on Sanji’s arm when Zoro wants his attention. A light, playful kick to his leg when one of them tells a stupid joke. 

And then there was one time, a couple of nights ago, when Zoro was keeping Sanji company on watch. This moment, in particular, will not stay out of Sanji’s dreams no matter how hard he tries. 

As the idiot inevitably fell asleep, his head dropped heavily down onto Sanji’s shoulder, thus rendering Sanji an utter nervous wreck, helpless to decide what he should do about it. The two stayed like that for hours, Sanji wide awake, heart racing wildly and unable to force himself to move.

It’s pure contentment and pure misery all wrapped up in a neat little green package he affectionately calls “marimo.”

But that’s not even the worst of it. No. Besides all of that, Zoro’s been getting a little overly protective, which has _ really _ been grating on Sanji’s nerves something fierce. 

The final blow, the last straw for Sanji was when Zoro started protecting him in battles with marines and other pirates. It was subtle at first. And it would have been barely noticeable if Sanji weren’t the type of guy who notices things.

Zoro would discreetly shift his entire body between Sanji and their opponent. At first, Sanji thought he was just watching his back like usual, but this was different. It became abundantly clear what he was up to, though, when Sanji found himself backed up to a cliff with Zoro fighting off pirates a few meters in front of him, not letting a single one get past. The bastard was puppy guarding him.

And that was that. Sanji may have been enjoying all the added closeness they’d been sharing lately, but he draws the line at being shielded like a princess. He’s one of the strongest members of this goddamn crew for fuck’s sake. Fucking ridiculous.

Now, a few months ago, Sanji might have just kicked the answers he wanted out of Zoro, but this time he decides to take a more verbal approach. While not as direct as the classic kicking option, it does stand to yield better results and fewer bruises. For both of them.

And maybe he kind of just wants to sit down and talk to Zoro. For real. There’s something about looking into the other man’s eyes — eye — while he looks back without any kind of challenge or contempt that’s just too tempting for Sanji to pass up. Just the two of them, talking. He’ll save that to pick apart later, though.

He finds Zoro on the balcony outside the aquarium bar, doing literally nothing with his time. 

“I’m just looking out for you, cook," Zoro replies when Sanji asks what in the hell he thinks he’s been up to. "I mean, someone has to, because you damn sure don’t look out for yourself.” 

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sanji asks, thrown for a complete loop by that unexpected comment. 

When Zoro takes too long to respond, Sanji continues. 

“I don’t need you fucking babysitting me. Just protect someone else instead, if you feel like you need to be a human meat shield. Nami. Usopp. Even Chopper or Robin” Sanji counts off, hoping to make his point clear. “They all need more protection than I do, idiot. And besides, keeping them alive and well is much more of a priority than keeping me alive. You should know that just as well as I do, marimo.”

Zoro says nothing. He just gives Sanji this dumb, concerned look, eyebrows furrowed liked he wants to argue but can’t think of anything to actually say to him in his own defense. 

He looks cute as fucking hell. Fuck. Time for Sanji to skip out before he does something embarrassing.

“Well, anyway, since that’s settled... I guess I’ll leave you to whatever the hell you were doing out here.” Sanji turns around and reaches for the door to the aquarium bar, satisfied that the conversation is over.

“Do you really—”

Sanji stops and turns back again. Apparently they weren’t done after all.

Zoro laughs almost bitterly to himself before closing his good eye and shaking his head. He takes a slow breath, while Sanji watches. In and out. 

What the hell’s got him so worked up? Sanji hadn’t tried to provoke him or anything. Still, he waits for Zoro to speak again.

“Do you really think of yourself like that?” Zoro asks with the smallest hint of a bite to his words. “Like you’re just expendable or... or some bullshit?” 

Sanji remains speechless, because that was not the question he’d been expecting. Far from it, actually.

“Matter of fact, you said something like that on Thriller Bark too, didn’t you? ‘Tell everyone to look for a new cook’ or whatever the fuck." Zoro's eyes narrow. "Am I wrong?” 

Sanji bows his head to keep his emotions at bay. He thought Zoro would have forgotten all that with everything he went through that day. Guess he didn't.

There's no escape from that line of questioning. What is he supposed to say to Zoro? Yes? I am expendable, and I've always been expendable compared to the rest of you? If I can save my friends, then I'll gladly throw my life away? Even if it's the truth, Sanji can't just come out and say it like that.

Zoro takes a step towards Sanji, getting right into his personal space and placing both hands on his shoulders. It’s a little close for Sanji’s comfort but, yet again, he can’t bring himself to move away. 

He isn’t sure whether it’s his own pride keeping him from stepping back or the pure adrenaline rush he gets from having Zoro so close. Both is also an option. Yeah, it's probably both.

“Sanji.” Zoro’s gaze on him is softer now, and so heavy that it feels like he might be staring straight through to his soul. “Don’t fucking talk about yourself like that again, okay? Vice captain’s orders.”

Sanji’s mind is spinning like a broken compass. Immediately, he wants to tell Zoro to shove it, and does he really think he can order him around like that? And what’s with that look on his stupid handsome face? But at the same time, he never expected Zoro of all people to—

“Dammit, your life is important, Sanji. You have value, if not to yourself, then definitely to this crew.”

Zoro’s eye falls a bit from Sanji’s to where his thumb is rubbing lightly over his shoulder. “And... to me.”

Before Sanji can respond, Zoro pulls him into a warm, squeezing hug. It’s the first one these two men have ever shared since they’ve known each other, and Sanji doesn’t want to let go, ever.

In the few seconds it takes for Zoro to release him, Sanji memorizes every curve he can feel of the body holding onto his own, Zoro's warmth is etched into his mind forever. He takes in the other man’s scent - steel and sake and something else that’s uniquely _him_ and no one else - and locks it away in case this never happens again. _ God fuck _, he hopes it happens again.

It’s fucking ridiculous. He’s acting like he did at 10 years old when he got his first hug from a girl he had a crush on. But it’s involuntary, really. He _ needs _ to remember these things about Zoro because he might not ever be this close to him again.

He wants to stay here forever. He wishes their bodies would just melt together and they could live like that, a part of each other. He wants to tell Zoro everything he’s feeling, everything that's in his heart. How it’s practically bursting at the seams with affection right now just because he knows someone cares. 

Sanji knows he has value, deep down. He knows his friends love him. But to be reminded of that fact and to have it affirmed by Zoro is something else entirely.

Then Zoro lets go, walks back into the ship, and Sanji feels off-balance. The expressionless look on his face completely hides how his mind and body are reeling. Sanji’s all over the goddamn place; doesn’t know which way is up anymore.

Now _he’s_ the directionless one, and isn’t that ironic? Because even though Sanji feels his very soul bursting with affection and need and _ love _ for Zoro — there, he fucking said it — he’s reminded of one small thing. 

There’s no way in hell Zoro could love him back. Not now. Not like that. Hell, he just started to consider Sanji a friend. There's no way he could ruin that now.

Besides, Zoro already gave his heart to someone else who didn't want it, and isn't that just fucking perfect? Cook and marimo, two peas in a goddamn pod. The shittiest love triangle that never was.

Sanji can’t fucking do this again. He can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never intended for this fic to be a slow burn, but it kind of took on a form of its own as I wrote it, sooo here we are. If you like it, please let me know. Your comments fuel me like caffeine never could!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who would've thought the temperamental cook could be such a gracious host?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! It's me again! This chapter was a bitch to write, but I think I'm happy with how it turned out. Even better is that it gave me a path to the ending, which is what I've been looking for. The end is near! But for now, please enjoy this recent development :)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux)

There's a visitor on the ship, currently. A passenger. A “friend,” as Luffy calls him. A warlord.

Zoro isn't exactly sure what to think of this Torao guy, but he trusts Luffy’s decision, and that's all that matters, really. Still doesn't mean he's gonna get all friendly with the guy, though.

Sanji, on the other hand, has been having a goddamn field day. Who would've thought the temperamental cook could be such a gracious host?

From the moment Law stepped on the Thousand Sunny's deck, it's been, "would you like some more tea" this, and "any dinner requests" that. He's even gone out of his way to prepare something different than what everyone else has for Torao that doesn’t include bread. For every. Single. Meal. 

It's downright sickening. That man is a rival pirate captain, and a warlord of the sea, no less. A damn government dog. He’s dangerous. Sanji shouldn't be pampering him like he is or waiting on him hand and foot. What does the cook even have to gain by giving him special treatment, anyway?

Luffy's been all over the guy too, but that isn’t really a surprise to anyone. He seemed to really hit it off with Trafalgar when they were on Punk Hazard. Probably a captain thing. Luffy's usually attached at the hip to someone at all times, anyway. 

Zoro grumbles as he walks past Law sipping at what has to be his eighth cup of tea that day. Hmph. The guy always looks dead on his feet. Probably needs that much caffeine just to keep his head on his shoulders. 

Zoro sits back against the railing with a huff. 

"Maybe I'd like a drink brought out to me for once," he mumbles to himself. "I mean, hell, I like tea too."

"Is that right?"

Zoro looks over to his right to see nothing but a face sticking out of the wall, and he just about jumps right into the sea.

"_Fucking shIT,_ Robin!" Zoro screeches and no, his voice did not just crack, goddammit. "What do you want?!"

"Oh, nothing. Am I not allowed to check up on my crewmates?" Robin's face replies with a hum. "You seem a tad dejected lately."

He gets no damn privacy on this ship. Zoro scans the deck looking for signs of the original Robin, only to come up short. Where the hell’s she hiding this time?

"Dejected, huh?" Zoro scratches at his chest while his heart begins to slow to a normal rate again. "How do you figure?"

"Well, you've been sleeping more for one, and training with your swords less," the face explains, staring at Zoro unblinkingly. "And every time a certain warlord gets a visit from a certain chef, you look about ready to carve him into pieces, alliance or not." 

"Who, Torao or the cook?" Zoro asks, knowing full well who she was talking about.

Robin stares without a word. He knows he's being petty. He just has a hard time talking about his feelings or emotions, or whatever. And especially with Robin.

She always does this, though, without fail. Corners him and makes him talk things through. Things that he didn’t even realize were weighing on his mind. He won't admit it to anyone, but he begrudgingly appreciates her concern.

Zoro sighs and flops back against the railing, feeling a bit like a kid being forced into a long talk about morals with his mother. 

“They’re both from the North Blue, you know,” Robin says. 

Zoro actually hadn’t known that about Law. He knows where Sanji was born, of course, but Torao could be from the fucking moon for all he cares. With the way the warlord acts, it really wouldn’t surprise Zoro if he were.

“I’ve heard them both talking about their home sea. Foods they like, traditions they share, those sorts of things.” 

She looks back to where Luffy is continuing to systematically wrap himself around Law, who is chatting amicably with Sanji on the bench next to him. 

They look comfortable. It took Zoro over two years to reach that point with him, and Torao managed to do it in mere days. Bastard.

Zoro just huffs back, mind occupied, but also not really wanting to hear any more about all the things Law and Sanji apparently have in common with each other.

"I just don't get it," he says after a few moments, voice quieter than before. "Why is he giving him so much damn attention?"

Robin doesn’t answer at first. Just gives him this calculating look before saying her careful response.

"You’re talking about Sanji, correct?" Robin asks. "How... hospitable he's being toward our guest?"

Zoro glances at the disembodied face for a second and frowns in confusion. "Of course I'm talking about the cook, who else would—"

He freezes as his eye widens and darts back over to Luffy, who is now completely wrapped around Law’s midsection. Twice. 

Wait. Is she trying to say...

Zoro turns back to Robin's face again only to find it completely gone. What the hell, woman?? She drops a bomb like that and just vanishes?

If he understands what she was getting at, and if what she was getting at is true, then...

Is he— Did he really do it?

Is he really over Luffy?

Zoro didn't even notice, but now that he thinks about it— Yeah. That near-constant ache in his chest is gone. Has been for a while, but he just never noticed.

He looks over at Luffy again, hanging off of Law like he was born there. Something about this scene should bother him, shouldn't it? Wouldn't he be at least a little jealous if he still had those feelings for Luffy?

Zoro stares and stares at the two captains, waiting to feel something, _anything_ at the sight of their proximity. Luffy's all but got his head in the guy's lap now.

Nothing. 

Zoro feels nothing. Sure, there’s an insane amount of affection left over, but it’s similar to what he feels for Chopper or Usopp. And there’s still that same sense of loyalty, but mostly to Luffy as his captain.

And just when the fuck did that happen? How could he not have noticed? How has he been distracted from something that’s this important to him?

Whatever, it doesn't matter. He isn't about to waste this newfound freedom on useless questions and introspection.

Zoro stands up and dusts himself off. He wants to— No. He _needs_ to do something. Anything. 

He feels so fucking light. His heart is dancing with a gleefulness that he hasn’t felt in ages. He’s euphoric. He’s so full of energy and excitement that he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.

Zoro’s first instinct is to find Sanji to tell him the good news. He’ll probably be a smug little shit about it, too, and take all the credit. Yeah, that sounds about right.

... But the cook seems preoccupied at the moment. 

Zoro decides to steer clear of him and his new "friend" by walking in the opposite direction, immediately spotting his next target.

That’s right. There’s a spring in Zoro’s step as he strides off toward the crow’s nest. Didn’t Robin say that he’d been slacking off on his training lately? Time to remedy that.

In his elation, Zoro doesn't notice the smiling face that reappears behind him during his revelation.

But that's okay. No one ever really notices she's watching, anyway.

-*-*-*-

Sanji’s dreaming. 

Zoro can tell. And he can tell that it isn’t a very good dream, either. Zoro props himself up on an elbow to get a better look at his crewmate in a hammock across the room from him. 

The cook isn’t exactly a peaceful sleeper to begin with. Zoro’s watched him tossing and turning many times before. 

But this time is different. He might kick in his sleep every now and then, but this is more violent and desperate. And where Sanji normally mutters unintelligible nonsense, now he’s whimpering and begging someone for help. 

Zoro can only stare for a moment, worrying his lip between his teeth with the feeling of dreaded concern growing steadily in his ribcage. 

Before his brain can register what he’s doing, he slides out of his hammock and pads over to the cook who’s still thrashing in his.

He hesitates a second before shaking the cook awake, but then does it anyway because something really isn’t right here. 

The face he sees when Sanji looks up is one of abject terror. He’s been crying in his sleep, tears running in streaks down his face and Zoro freezes, not knowing how to react to seeing him like this. To seeing him... weak?

No. That's wrong. The cook isn't weak. _Sanji_ is never weak. But he's so vulnerable right now and to Zoro, that's something incredibly terrifying. 

Zoro doesn’t want to humiliate him or exploit his vulnerability. He just wants to make it better. Make Sanji better in any way he can, and he realizes that he would do almost anything Sanji wanted to make those tears stop falling from his eyes, and to make him stop looking away, hiding his face in his pillow like he’s ashamed of himself.

What could he possibly have to be ashamed of?

And then it strikes Zoro instantly that what he’s seeing is something private. He’s seeing something so deeply personal that precious few have ever seen before, if anyone at all, for that matter.

Without really thinking about it, he pulls the cook into another hug, but apparently it's all too much so Sanji starts silently crying again. His body is shaking from the sobs and so Zoro just keeps holding him and whispering that it's gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay, just let it out, don’t worry.

He isn’t really sure whether he started pushing or Sanji started pulling, but somehow Zoro ends up sliding down next to him in the wooden hammock and holding him tightly to his chest, telling him to go back to sleep, he's right here. It'll be okay. Just go to sleep.

Zoro’s heart is practically throbbing in his throat. His mind races with questions and concerns and even more questions. He desperately, _desperately_ wonders what could be so traumatizing that it would cause such an incredibly strong man to see it in his dreams and cry like a child. 

But he doesn't really need to know at the moment. Maybe it's not his place to know. 

He wants it to be his place to know.

Sanji’s arms are still wrapped around Zoro’s back and he’s clinging to him like they’re the last two people on earth. Zoro places his chin on top of the blonde head and squeezes him tighter, not bothering to think about the intimacy of this situation in favor of helping his friend calm down.

It’s what Sanji would do if the roles were reversed, right?

The sniffling stops and he can feel the cook’s breathing slow back to normal with every shaky breath he takes. The worst of it seems to be over.

It's in this quiet moment that something falls into place for Zoro. Something, everything falls into place. 

This. This feels right. Natural.

It’s like how Zoro’s need to be near Sanji, to be beside him, has been steadily growing and growing lately until it’s become unbearable. It gnaws at his soul every moment of every day until Sanji's somewhere within his line of sight.

He’s been giving in more and more to his impulses that tell him to talk to the cook, touch him, make him smile again. To make some kind of contact or else Zoro will spend the rest of the day irritable and needy. To protect him. Hell, even to make him angry, which, coincidentally, usually happens when Zoro tries to protect him. 

Anything to get his attention because, he realizes, that’s right where he wants to be. The center of Sanji’s attention. 

Everything just feels so much _better_ when he’s by Sanji’s side. It feels like—

Zoro frowns and squeezes his eyes shut.

_No._

He looks down at Sanji’s face, lit almost perfectly by a sliver of moonlight coming through the porthole. 

And his heart skips a beat.

_Fuck, not again._

-*-*-*-

The next morning, neither of them mention what happened between them the night before. It’s possible the cook doesn’t even remember, which would be the best possible scenario. 

Zoro had removed himself from the hammock shortly after the cook fell back asleep, deciding that the other man would probably kick his ass all the way back to Reverse Mountain if he held him all night.

_Even though that's exactly what you wanted to do_, his mind unhelpfully replies.

Zoro stabs at his eggs a little more forcefully than what's necessary. What is he supposed to do now?

He gets over his feelings for his captain only to turn right around and develop feelings for the cook? Maybe he should ask Chopper to check for a hormone imbalance or something because this is fucking ridiculous. 

Zoro spares a quick glance at the man in question and feels his face heat up at the way Sanji’s eyes crinkle when he’s smiling. He has to force himself to look away. 

Dammit to hell.

Something else that isn't helping is watching Sanji chat up Trafalgar at the other end of the table like they've been best buddies for years.

All smug, sipping coffee like he owns the place. 

They both start chuckling at something Law says and when Sanji touches the other man's arm, Zoro's fork somehow ends up bent in half. 

Not good. _Bad_, in fact. Very bad. He decides to remove himself from the general vicinity before he damages something else.

Zoro mutters some bullshit about needing air before he pushes his plate to the middle of the table where he's one-hundred percent sure it'll get claimed by someone else and walks out the galley door.

The swordsman only gets a short moment of peace before he hears footsteps following him outside.

“Hey.” Sanji’s voice sounds a bit rougher than usual. 

_Probably from all the crying_, Zoro thinks, with a sharp pang in his chest.

“Can we talk?” Sanji tilts his head toward Nami’s tangerine trees. “Maybe over there?”

“Sure.” Zoro follows him absentmindedly because now he’s just noticed how Sanji’s hair catches the sunlight a certain way, and some of the strands shine almost white like a halo. 

He thinks about how he pressed his face into that hair last night, and a few days before when he hugged him, and _god_ what would it be like to run his fingers through it? Is it soft? Probably. Sanji’s _very_ particular when it comes to hygiene.

Zoro doesn’t realize the cook’s talking to him until he sees his mouth moving, and by that point, the words have completely flown over his head. He blinks.

“Huh?”

That, of course, makes Sanji roll his eyes. 

“Maybe listen when people talk to you, idiot.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and lowers his gaze. 

“I _said_, I wanted to thank you for... you know,” Sanji lifts his eyes to look out at the sea. Or maybe just to look anywhere other than at Zoro. “For helping me out last night. You didn’t have to do that.”

Ah, so he _does_ remember. Zoro can see how the tips of his ears are flushed with red. His cheeks are pink, though, like sakura petals. Zoro just might have a new favorite color.

“And um...” Sanji continues, pulling Zoro from his daydream. “I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Of course,” Zoro responds a bit more dutifully than necessary. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Sanji looks back at him and gives him a small smile. But it’s not right. 

It’s not the genuine happy smile he’s been trying to pull out of the cook more and more lately. It’s a sad and regretful smile, and it makes Zoro’s chest ache.

All of a sudden there’s too much distance between them. Why? Why is Sanji sad? He needs to be closer. What can he do to make this better? 

Zoro closes the distance in two quick steps, and before he knows it, Sanji’s face is in his hands. He’s looking at him, imploringly, eyes roaming over the cook’s face for any sort of clue. He looks for the slightest twitch that might tell him more until Sanji parts his lips and Zoro fixates on those.

_Those._ It's like he's seeing lips for the first time. Have they always looked like that? They’re kind of perfect. Surely he would’ve noticed them before. 

It was involuntary how he moved even closer, really. His face only a few inches away from the cook’s. And he was going to ask Sanji what was wrong. He really was. 

But as his lips barely begin to form the words, he feels his feet leave the ground and his back hits a tree, tangerines falling all around him. A fiery pain blooms throughout his gut and up to his chest where scorch marks are visible.

_“What the fuck,”_ he gasps, barely able to take in air after such a shot to the diaphragm. But when he looks up to demand an answer, Sanji has already disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought introducing Law into the mix might help things along. All my favorite Zoros are in this chapter. The jealous one, the protective one, the hopelessly in love one, the dumbass one. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! 😁


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji really doesn’t have time for misunderstandings right now. He has burgers to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the grace of my coffee pot and sheer will, this chapter has come to fruition. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy it 💜

"Three broken ribs and second-degree burns all over his chest. They’ll heal, of course. This _ is _ Zoro we’re talking about."

Chopper is currently glaring a hole through Sanji who pretends not to notice the big, guilt-inducing eyes staring daggers at him.

"Would you like to tell me what happened or will I have to pry it out of you?"

Sanji sighs and slumps his shoulders. Might as well. It's not like he could ever hold out on Chopper for long, anyway.

"Alright, fine. See, what happened was--"

"You know what? Actually? I don't even want to know. Here's the bill."

Shell-shocked, Sanji takes the slip of paper Chopper hands to him and - yes, that definitely looks like an itemized medical bill.

The fuck?

"Hey, Chopper? Since when do we pay for our own medical care? I thought we had more of a... universal type thing going on here."

Chopper huffs and rubs at his forehead with his little hoof.

"This," he grumbles, tapping the paper, "is only for you and Zoro, so long as you both continue to put _each other_ in my infirmary." The doctor crosses his little arms. "As much as it goes against everything I stand for as a doctor, Nami insists that financial burden is the only way you two will ever learn."

Sanji lightly taps the toe of his shoe on the floor in frustration. 

He'd be a complete idiot to go against anything Nami says where money is involved. Or, ever, for that matter.

“Is he still in there?” Sanji asks, tilting his head toward the door of the infirmary but keeping his expression neutral.

He hadn't realized how hard he actually kicked the mosshead until Chopper had just now told him. 

Three broken ribs? On_ Zoro? _How had he managed that? Even on a good day, he normally can't get a hit on him like that.

How could he have been so _ stupid _ letting his emotions run away from him? Surely Zeff had taught him better.

“Yeah. It’s weird, though,” Chopper begins, unaware of Sanji’s burgeoning inner turmoil.

“What’s weird?”

“Well, normally, he’d already be up walking around the ship and trying to find a way out of the bandages I wrapped him in.” 

Right. Chopper had to be inventive when it came to treating Zoro, so he started binding his wounds in intricate layers with varying nautical knots for good measure. Takes Zoro at least twice as long to tear them off now.

“But now, he’s just... lying there,” Chopper continues. “He isn’t even sleeping.”

Sanji swallows the lump that had begun to form in his throat as he listens but doesn’t comment on why he thinks that could be the case.

In the end, he thanks Chopper for his hard work by patting the top of his hat and sending him away clutching a warm mug of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows between his hooves.

Ignoring his overwhelming urge to look at the infirmary door and sitting on the precipice of a total breakdown, Sanji decides that now is a good time to start on tonight’s dinner.

Curiously enough, and for what may be the first time in his life, he doesn’t actually _ want _ to cook right now. 

Right now, Sanji wants to jump in the ocean and swim to the nearest island or maybe take Zoro’s advice and play with the fish at the bottom of the sea.

Whatever he needs to do to escape the shitshow of his life right now.

Seriously, though, _ what was that idiot thinking _almost kissing him like that? 

Zoro has no idea what that did to him -- at least Sanji sure fucking hopes Zoro has no idea what that did to him.

Especially after - whatever the fuck it was that happened last night with the dream and the crying and the comforting... 

Sanji _ still _ hasn’t gotten around to processing that particular event.

He yanks the refrigerator door open and pulls out the comically huge hunks of meat he’s been marinating all day. Sea king meat. Could probably use a touch more tenderizing, though.

Sanji has been hopelessly pining after his crewmate for weeks, never expecting anything to come of it, because _ why would it? _ Why would Sanji, who has never had a goddamn winning streak in his _ life _, be so lucky all of a sudden?

Why would Providence, or god, or the fucking devil themself decide that now is the time to give Sanji _ any _ semblance of a break?

He opens a drawer to his left and picks out the meat tenderizer without having to look at what he’s doing.

Sanji won’t admit it out loud because it might come across as crude, but beating the shit out of a giant hunk of meat is one of his favorite things to do in the kitchen. It’s therapeutic.

As Sanji begins whacking away at the sea king meat, the other aspect of this situation slowly creeps into his mind. The one thought he’s been trying so hard to keep at bay.

Sanji had told Zoro to try out a rebound against his better judgment.

Sure, he’d been drunk as shit at that party, and _ sure _ all he wants is for Zoro to stop being a heartbroken, love-sick fool because it is most certainly _ not _ a good look for him. 

Sanji pulls that particular look off _ way _ better.

But anyway, he knew that seeing Zoro leave the party to have... _ relations _ with someone else was going to tear him up inside.

That’s why he’d been so relieved when Zoro initially rejected his advice. 

That is. Initially. Rejected it.

Sanji’s _ whacks _ get louder and the tough meat gets flatter and flatter.

Never in a _ million goddamn years _ on a _ thousand motherfucking seas _ did Sanji ever think Zoro would turn right around and use _ him _ as a rebound. 

_ Him. Sanji. _

It isn’t fucking fair. 

What does he think he's doing? Who does he think he is? Was he thinking at all??

Sanji’s chest tightens and his arm swings faster.

Zoro has no idea how much Sanji wanted to lean into that kiss. To just smother the man with every goddamn ounce of the pent-up love and affection he’s been holding in all this time.

He doesn’t know how much it would have absolutely _killed_ Sanji to serve as a convenient distraction and nothing more. 

The replacement. Good for a while, but no comparison to the real thing.

Rebounds are supposed to be meaningless. Strangers, one-night stands, maybe even just a short-term fling. 

But with the way Sanji feels about Zoro, how his chest burns at the very thought of losing what little they already have... 

Fucking hell. Nothing about that could _ever_ be meaningless.

That damn idiot. That grass-headed son of a bitch. That stupid-- fucking--

“We having ground sea king for dinner?”

Sanji startles and stops his arm mid-swing, the meat on the counter looking more like a paste than the steaks he had originally intended to make.

He looks behind him at the intruder, fully prepared to give a hot-headed line about minding their own fucking business, but-

Oh. It’s just Law. 

Again.

All Sanji does is treat him with civility like he would any guest on the ship, and now the guy won’t leave him the hell alone.

Sanji slowly releases the iron grip he has on the tenderizer and drops it in the sink before flexing his hand. Shit, it’s sore. 

“Yeah, I uh- I thought we could have sea king burgers tonight,” Sanji responds with the first dish that pops into his head, before realizing--

“Ugh, no _ thank you _, bread alone is disgusting, but buns?” Law pulls down the brim of his hat and makes a face like he’d just stepped in something. “Abhorrent.”

Despite himself, Sanji feels a chuckle bubble up inside his chest. He’s certainly been spoiled these past few years with a captain and a crew that will eat almost anything he puts in front of them.

He hasn’t had to deal with a picky eater since... Well, since he left the Baratie with Luffy that day.

Law gives him a questioning look that only makes Sanji want to laugh harder, but recent circumstances won’t allow him too much room for mirth today. 

He turns back around to try and salvage the pink mass that was once a mighty sea king.

“Y’know, burgers don’t always have to be served on a bun,” Sanji says after hearing a near-silent scrape of chair legs. It seems Torao will be staying for a while after all. 

Sanji surveys his spice rack with a glance and grabs a few old faithfuls, making damn sure he grabs the sea salt he collected himself as well. 

“I _ am _ a first-rate chef, so it wouldn’t be exactly impossible to take certain liberties with something as basic as a burger.”

When he still gets no response from Law, Sanji glances over his shoulder to see if he’d been heard. 

Yep, he’d been heard alright. Law had just_ chosen _ not to respond.

Instead, the man is just watching him, tracking his every move with his amber eyes like a cat watching a bird it’s been stalking. 

Like a creep, actually. Sanji might have called him as such if he weren't trying to stay on good terms with the other captain.

The cook sighs and turns back to his task, beginning to work his spice blend into the meat.

Whatever. There are certain oddities Law has that Sanji finds himself more and more forgiving over, especially after finding out he’s also from the North Blue. 

Though Law still won’t say _ exactly _ where he's from.

Can’t really blame him for the secrecy, though. Sanji keeps his own as well. That sea has fucked over so many lives, he might even say it’s --

“Nnng!”

A sharp pain shoots through Sanji’s hand and radiates from his fingers like the bones and joints themselves are fighting back at him.

He grasps his right hand in his left, rubbing at his fingers and vainly trying to relieve some of the aches. 

Damn his temper. If he hadn’t gone so hard on the sea king earlier--

“Let me see.”

Sanji’s glare shoots to Law’s outstretched hand like it’s personally responsible for this mess.

“What? No. Why?” he manages to stammer.

Law rolls his eyes and grabs his injured hand anyway, ignoring the wince that comes from the cook.

“I’m a doctor, you imbecile,” he mutters, creating a small ‘Room’ around Sanji's hand so he can get a better look.

“You son of a-- _ mmm _.” 

Sanji feels warmth bloom across his knuckles and the pain recedes and all of a sudden he doesn’t care nearly as much _ what _ Law calls him because his hand feels _ great. _

“What did -- _ hmmm _ \-- how did you do that?”

“A devil fruit and a life of medical training.”

“Ah.”

They’re silent for all of about one second before Nami decides _ now _ would be the perfect moment to march through the galley door, sharp eyes homing directly onto where Law still holds Sanji’s hand in his.

They hadn’t even been doing anything wrong. And there literally could not be a more innocent explanation for why they had been holding hands than the truth.

But for some reason, seeing Nami storm through the door looking like she’s about to transform into something that eats blond chefs for breakfast has Sanji jumping back and jerking his hand away.

He must look like the guiltiest bastard to ever guilt.

Nami turns her beautiful yet stern expression towards Law who clears his throat like he’s about to speak, gives up, and then promptly leaves the galley without a word.

Sanji, meanwhile, has begun the very important task of rolling the sea king meat into patties again. A task that he could not _ possibly _ break from for even a _ second _ to glance up at the woman glaring at him.

“Sanji.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies a tad too quickly.

“Sanji, you need to look at me. Now.”

His hands pause immediately on reflex and he silently curses his own attitude towards women, which catches him off guard for a moment. He really is a damn mess right now, isn’t he?

Sanji steps over to the sink to wash his hands and steel himself before turning around to face the navigator.

“What can I do for you, miss?”

Nami’s hard-set expression breaks for a moment as she quite obviously fights the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“You know as well as I do that we need to talk.”

“W--” Sanji unsuccessfully tries to swallow the knot that just lodged itself in his throat. He can’t hold her gaze for long. “What about?”

She points at the infirmary door, daunting as ever in the corner of the room.

“This,” she says without hesitation, then points at where Sanji and Law had been standing moments before. “And that.”

Despite knowing exactly where this conversation is going to lead, Sanji’s brain stumbles over itself trying to explain.

“No, nonono, Nami that was-- It isn’t what you th--”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sanji. You’ve got some weird love triangle thing going on here with Law and Zoro and it’s got you messed up, doesn’t it?”

“I--”

“And yes, I know of course that your relationship struggles aren’t really my business." Nami’s piercing glare has softened into something that makes Sanji feel heavy. "But I’m only bringing it up because I’m worried about you.” 

“Th--”

“And I’m worried about Zoro,” Nami continues and Sanji decides to just stay quiet and let her finish. “I couldn’t care less about Torao, but it’s in our best interest to keep him happy too.”

Sanji nods in agreement and waits for her to continue.

_ “Well?” _

“Well... what?”

“So you have nothing to say?”

Sanji exhales as his hand moves toward his pocket in search of a cigarette. But no, not in the kitchen. He’ll have to get through this without one.

But that brings up another issue. Does he tell Nami the truth? Certainly, he can, but _ should _ he? 

After what they went through two years ago, does he even have the right to burden her with this?

Sanji looks back at Nami’s calculating stare and decides, for the sake of everyone involved, to lie to her.

“Okay, then. The truth is,” Sanji slides his hands in his pockets and toes the floorboards as his mind works overtime trying to fabricate a reason for all the drama that’s been going on lately. “The truth is I thought the mosshead and I could actually be friends, but, as it turns out, I was wrong. He’s just as idiotic as he ever was. That’s why he’s in there.”

Sanji nods his head toward the infirmary.

“As for Law--”

“No.”

Sanji’s head snaps up as his heart rate does the same. What does she mean ‘no’?

“You and I...” She trails off with a pinched look on her face.

“Me and you?” 

Sanji wonders where this could likely be going. He doesn’t like most of the possibilities.

“Yes, you and I... Well, we’ve had our problems in the past.” Nami crosses her arms in front of her, just as uncomfortable with this topic as Sanji is. “I’m sure you remember.”

He clenches his jaw in uneasiness, but says nothing, encouraging her to continue.

“What I’m trying to say is, I want you to quit treating me like an idiot.”

“B-beg pardon?”

Nami takes a deep breath before laying into him.

“You can’t lie to me about this, Sanji because I know, okay? You’re in love with Zoro and I know because, the way you look at him sometimes? I know that look.”

At this point, Nami has backed Sanji up against the counter, cutting off any avenue for escape he might try to take. He feels too fried by her words to try and escape, anyway.

“I know that look because you used to look at me the same way. You don’t just wear your heart on your sleeve, Sanji, you carry it around on a damn sign that has ‘I love Zoro’ written across it in all caps.”

Sanji turns his head away so he doesn’t have to look into eyes that can see right through him, apparently.

“But listen.” Nami sighs, the harshness having dissolved from her tone. “The way you’re dealing with this is unhealthy.” 

Dealing? In what way is he _ dealing _ with this? If anyone had asked Sanji, he’d say he isn’t dealing with it at all.

At his continued silence, Nami rubs her eyes in frustration and gives him a _ look _ as though he’s supposed to just know what she means.

“Your... _ thing _ with Law. Don’t think the rest of us haven’t noticed,” she says. “It’s bad enough how obsessed Luffy is with him, but if you start getting all cozy with him too, it could spell trouble when that shit goes south.”

At this point, Sanji’s brain has gone completely defective and is attempting to restart itself, so all he can manage to get out is an unintelligent, “uh.”

They think... that... wait, _ what? _No, but Law’s just-- whoa, whoa, whoa. 

Okay.

“Nami, I don’t--”

“Look, I’m not here to argue about it with you, Sanji,” Nami cuts in. “I just wanted to talk with you and give you my opinion. Ultimately? The choice is yours. I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

But before Sanji could work up the fortitude to correct her assumptions, she had already left the galley door swinging in her wake.

Fuck.

Sanji really doesn’t have time for misunderstandings right now. He has burgers to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment so I can know what you think! Also, I'm on [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux) if you want to holler at me.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His chest hurts. That’s probably just the broken ribs, though, right? Probably. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is finally it! The final chapter! I started writing this nearly a year ago and I feel like I've improved so much since the beginning. If you've stuck with it for this long, just know that I love and appreciate you so much. 💜 I hope you enjoy :)

Zoro is currently licking his wounds. 

Not literally, of course, that would be gross. But at this point, it damn sure feels like almost anything would help him feel better.

Anything but thinking about Sanji.

Zoro groans and rubs his hand across his face as he stares intently at the ceiling of Chopper’s infirmary. 

His chest hurts. That’s probably just the broken ribs, though, right? Probably. Maybe.

Damn cook with his damn powerful legs. He didn’t have to go all out like _that, _ did he? Zoro had been too _distracted _to block that kick. And now, all because of Sanji’s little freak-out, he's injured in more ways than just his pride.

Damn cook with his damn crazy emotions.

Still.

There’s this pervasive feeling of dread, too. This heaviness that seeps into every corner of Zoro’s consciousness the way a flood seeps into every corner of a house.

He knows this isn’t really Sanji’s doing. Not entirely, at least. He knows it’s just as much his own stupid fault he’s in this much pain. 

No Diable Jambe to the solar plexus could ever cause _this _soul-deep ache.

Stupid. 

Stupid, stupid, _ stupid. _

Zoro thought he had more discipline than what he’s been exhibiting recently. He’s stared down living nightmares with more willpower than he showed staring down the cook’s lips this morning.

The worst part of all of this, though, is that he knows it was all just a terrible misunderstanding. An accident. He hadn’t even been _trying _to kiss Sanji - not really - but apparently, it had sure as hell looked that way.

Good luck explaining that to the cook, though. 

Just the thought of facing _him _right now sends a fresh wave of dread through Zoro and he covers his face with a pillow in a feeble attempt at hiding from it.

Even with his face stuffed in his pillow, the scent of freshly baked bread wafts under the galley door and seems to assault him from nearly every direction. It reminds him that he can't escape his problems so easily.

Sanji quite literally _steps_ away from where Zoro is lying incapacitated, if the pots and pans clanging together in the kitchen are anything to go by, but he still can’t bring himself to _look_ at the man, much less talk to him about their little mishap.

Zoro groans and sits up in his infirmary cot, wincing at the pain in his ribs. 

Maybe he can escape through the infirmary’s other door into the hallway and then--

And then what? They both live on the same fucking ship. Sanji’s the cook. Zoro can’t just _stop _eating, and he’d sooner throw himself overboard than ask someone else to bring his meals to him.

Shit, he's gone back into a complete loop, hasn't he? Wasn't this the exact course of action he took with Luffy? Or, rather, _ inaction? _

_ Run away from your heartache. Get high enough into the crow's nest and maybe those feelings can't reach you. Maybe you can just hide for a few days, like a-- _

Like a coward? No, fuck that.

Roronoa Zoro is no coward. And after everything he's been through these past few months with the crew? With _ Sanji? _

After all the work he's put in for this very reason?

That bastard cook would laugh right in his face for trying to regress like this.

That awful thought alone is enough to make Zoro sit up the rest of the way, turn, and place his feet firmly on the infirmary floor.

He glares at the door like it's an enemy he has to cut before pushing himself up onto his feet and taking a steady step towards it.

He can get through this. He knows he can. All he needs to do is--

** _BOOM_ **

All at once, the ship starts rocking and the infirmary becomes increasingly harder to navigate with all the movement around him.

Are they actually getting attacked? _ Right now?? _

_Shit,_ the Marines really do have the worst track record for attacking at the worst fucking time possible.

Zoro glances around the infirmary, grinning when he spies his swords leaned up in the corner.

Maybe killing and maiming a few government bastards will help with calming his pre-talk-with-Sanji jitters.

-*-*-*-

When Zoro steps onto the deck, the first thing he sees is pandemonium: this crew's bread and butter.

From the looks of it, this had been a surprise attack, with the enemy ship - submarine, actually - having struck from under the water's surface.

By the time Zoro had gotten out there, the submarine had already resurfaced and transformed into a proper marine ship.

He'd almost be amazed by the sheer technological genius of it if he weren't so preoccupied with taking stock of his crewmates. 

Luffy had already flung himself and Nami over to the other ship to keep more Marines from boarding Sunny and to fight the ship's captain. There isn't much Zoro can do about that, and they can both take care of themselves anyway, so he continues on.

Chopper is already in Heavy Point, tag-teaming with Usopp and his slingshot as the two often do. Zoro reminds himself to try and keep an eye on them if possible.

Franky seems to be below deck patching up the hole that was blown in Sunny's hull from the torpedo that hit them, and Robin is nowhere to be found. 

She _is _still involved in the fight, however, if the disembodied arms snapping necks all around him are anything to go by. Maybe he should keep an eye on her too if he can.

Brook is doing just fine with Soul Solid, freezing every Marine who dares to come near the living skeleton. Most keep their distance, so not really much to worry about there.

That just leaves...

Zoro sees Sanji fighting closely with Law, back to back as he would normally do with Zoro, but something’s off. Their rhythm’s all wrong, like two songs that don’t mesh at all being played simultaneously. 

When Sanji leaps, Law slashes just a bit too soon for comfort. Sanji bends into a Poitrine Shoot only to find his opponent has been teleported elsewhere, throwing him completely off-balance. 

It's frustratingly _painful _to watch. 

Zoro knows Sanji’s movements and fighting style better than anyone else at this point. When they fight, whether it’s against each other or together, he _knows _every which way the other man’s body will move like it’s an extension of his own.

Trafalgar Law, _doesn’t. _

And so it isn’t some idiotic, bull-headed jealousy that drives Zoro towards them as fast as he can possibly run. It isn’t possessiveness or any other childish emotion that he could think to feel where the cook is concerned. 

Zoro runs toward Sanji for one reason alone: He’s about to be _killed. _

Sanji’s rhythm is thrown so far off by Trafalgar that he doesn’t notice the Marine pitching a javelin at his back. His vulnerable, exposed back, which _should _have been pressed against Zoro’s own for cover like usual.

Zoro's swords are heavy like weights in his hands, too heavy to run fast with and, _fuck, when have they ever been this heavy? _

He won't make it in time, not like this.

So Zoro drops them. He drops his swords and he dives for Sanji. 

He doesn’t even remember hitting the ground.

-*-*-*-

When Zoro wakes up, the first thing he thinks is that it was all a dream. The attack, the submarine ship, the javelin-- It all feels so distant.

What _doesn't_ help is that the first thing he sees when he wakes up is the goddamn infirmary ceiling again. He had already worked up the nerve to leave this place once, and now he has to do it again?

And Zoro would have _continued _believing it was all a dream if it weren't for what felt like a hot iron stabbing from his hip all the way through to the top of his ass cheek. Lovely. There's a literal pain in his ass.

"Skewered," a voice says to his right, and Zoro glances over to see an even _bigger _pain in his ass standing with his arms crossed, just _glaring _at him_. _ "You were skewered like a fucking kebab, you inconsiderate _ ass_."

Zoro groans and rolls his eyes and most certainly does _not _feel his heart rate kick up at being in the same room as the blond.

"What, are you here to kick me in the ribs again?" He mouths off, feeling especially bitchy after what his body's been put through over the span of a day.

"Oh, no," Sanji responds, pulling up a chair and sitting down heavily. "I think you're more than capable of destroying your own damn self. You don't need me for that."

"You know what? I th--"

Zoro's response is cut off by his own silent scream. Firey pain blooms and resonates through him, the likes of which he hasn't felt since he lost his eye.

He drops his head back against the pillow with a grunt. Sitting up to face the cook is out of the question, apparently.

Sanji watches silently, emotions betrayed only by the white-knuckled grip he has on his own knee.

"The javelin had barbs," he says quietly, looking down somewhere that isn't directly at Zoro. "It took both Chopper _and_ Torao's devil fruit to get it out of you. Damn lucky it wasn't poisoned."

"Shit."

It's all Zoro can say, really. He hadn't even thought twice about the javelin itself, only about its intended target. Even if it _had _been poisonous, though, he still wouldn't regret what he did.

Sanji's safe, his crew is safe, and pain is only temporary. All is right with the world. 

"Why," Sanji asks after a moment of tense silence.

Zoro turns his head to get a better look at Sanji while he talks and raises his eyebrows.

"Why did you do it?" the cook asks again.

Zoro thinks about that for a second. He did it for a whole slew of reasons, of course. For the most part, though, he wasn't really thinking about the _why _of it at all. Only the _how. _

“Tell me you were just doing your job,” Sanji says when he doesn’t speak up. If Zoro weren’t a little woozy from blood loss, he might say the cook’s voice has a desperate tone to it. “Tell me you were just being a good friend and looking out for your crewmate or something. _ Please, _ Zoro.”

Sanji’s eyes are shining again and Zoro doesn’t want to look at them. He almost _can’t _look at them because they’re making him feel things he still isn’t used to feeling.

“I can’t,” Zoro finally manages to whisper. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

Sanji fucking _ crumbles. _ He leans forward with his hands in his own hair, elbows on his knees. The tension in his shoulders could snap a tree in half.

Zoro watches as Sanji’s face dissolves from an indignant glare to something almost broken. Something that looks an awful lot like a man who still doesn’t know his own worth. Even if everyone else around him does.

No. 

No, no, _ no. _

Zoro _cannot _let Sanji lock himself up like this. Not this time.

In the next second, he reaches out and takes Sanji’s face in his hands, forcing the cook to lean over him and look him in the eye. 

Zoro needs him to listen and hear every word of what he’s about to say.

"You have so much goddamn _emotion _in you, Sanji. You have so much love to give and you've _ never _ expected to be loved back, have you?” Zoro asks, eyes pleading with the cook to understand exactly where these words are coming from. “You just-- give and give and _give _and that's not fucking fair to you. It isn't. You deserve-- You deserve to be loved back. You deserve _love, _ Sanji."

The cook tries to shake his head, but Zoro’s hands hold him steady. 

“But what about Lu--”

“And even if it doesn’t count as much to you, even if you decide to forget I ever said this at all; You need to know this.” Zoro slides both hands from Sanji’s face down to his shoulders. “_I love you. _”

Sanji makes some type of strangled sound but doesn’t -- or _can’t _ \-- speak. And though his brain is _screaming _at him, Zoro continues pouring out his heart into Sanji's hands.

“I love you, Sanji. And I’m terrified of what that means,” Zoro admits, leaning his head back and squeezing his eye shut. “It’s so new and unnerving and I don’t know how to _ deal _ with feeling like this about you because you’re so goddamn--”

Zoro looks up and Sanji’s pained expression meets his own.

“You’re so-- _ you._”

That earns him an unexpected scoff.

“I’m so _ me? _ ” Sanji retaliates before asking, “What about you, then?”

“M--”

“Yes, _you._ You infuriating ball of moss.” 

Sanji brushes Zoro’s hands off of his shoulders only to put his own on the swordsman’s face in a reversed imitation of their earlier position.

“_You _ are always going on and on about how I need to take care of myself or how I need to realize my own self-worth or how I’m _ important _ or whatever the fuck.” Sanji’s hands inch slowly up into Zoro’s hair and seize it in a vice-like grip that demonstrates every single ounce of the cook’s frustration. “Meanwhile, you allow _yourself_ to get sliced up almost _daily _on our behalf. Hell, sometimes it’s even _ you _ doing the slicing.”

Zoro’s ankles twinge a bit at that comment.

“But you don’t _understand, _ Zoro,” Sanji continued. “You don’t get that I’d do the same for you. You don’t get that maybe I don’t _ want _ you throwing yourself between me and danger because _ I’m _ scared of losing _ you.” _

“But, the javelin. You were about to--” 

“And that wouldn’t have even been an _ issue _ if we had both been where we were supposed to be, would it?”

At each other’s backs, where they belong. Sanji doesn’t have to say it. Zoro _knows _what he means in the same way he knows Alabasta is dry and Water 7 is wet.

He stares into Sanji’s eyes, waiting, expecting, _ hoping. _ And then the cook smiles.

“I love you too, shithead,” he says through his blinding grin. “I love you _so fucking much_ I can’t stand it.”

Zoro doesn’t know exactly what happens in the next moment, but when he feels soft lips touch his own, hands still buried in his hair, he knows for _damn _sure what’s about to happen. 

The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated and fucking _ perfect _in every way he can imagine. The cook smells like smoke and spices and _home and holy fuck he’s kissing Sanji like his life depends on it. _

So this is how it feels to love and be loved in return. In all the seas, there's really no comparison, is there?

When the two finally break apart, they don’t speak for a moment, just breathing in each other’s space.

Then Sanji dons his most shit-eating grin ever.

“So, I take it I was able to get you over our captain after all?”

Zoro would throw him in the ocean if he weren’t so blissed out on kisses.

-*- Epilogue -*-

Zoro looks up at the man whose lap his head is resting on and he feels his chest swell with emotion. Sanji always looks so beautiful in the golden light of a sunset. 

Something about the way the pinks and oranges and blues play against the cook’s skin and hair just renders him utterly speechless, and he could stare all day if the sun never set.

He reaches a hand up and briefly plays with the slightly darker hair at Sanji’s chin before sliding his palm up to his cheek and around to the back of his neck.

Sanji glances down at him questioningly with his eyebrows raised, his eyes shining in the dying light of the sun, and Zoro is filled with an overwhelming need to have this man’s lips on his, so he tugs him down.

He couldn’t keep the smile from his face if he tried.

The kiss is slow and deep and unhurried, and it leaves Zoro wanting more. When it comes to Sanji, he _always_ wants more.

Lucky for him, the blond isn’t stingy.

As his lips hover teasingly over Sanji’s, heart dancing wildly in his chest, he can’t help but murmur the words his mind is perpetually screaming at the other man. Something he never hesitates to say once the feeling hits.

“I love you.”

Sanji’s eyes never leave him, and Zoro can see the edges crinkle in that way that makes his lungs stop working and his head spin.

“I love you too, Zoro.”

They hold onto each other in that lazy way of two people who have nothing better to do. It’s that familiar way of two people who would rather be with no one else and would rather be nowhere else than where they are in that moment.

And at the bow of the Thousand Sunny, taking in the last few rays of sunlight before the day is over, their napping captain smiles to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, y'all :] I'm on [Tumblr](https://ruskaina.tumblr.com/) and also [Twitter](https://twitter.com/startaroux) if you're feeling chatty 💜


End file.
